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after-witch · 6 months ago

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Bookworm [Yandere Mahito x Reader]

Title: Bookworm [Yandere Mahito x Reader]

Synopsis: Mahito doesn't like that you have an interest in a book character.

Word count: 1787

notes: yandere, kidnapped reader, mentions of other people being tortured/killed, supreme self indulgence of the highest order

“Who is the smiling man?”

The silence that had existed between the two of you was broken by a question that made you flinch. Well, why not? Mahito has been quiet all morning--and afternoon, actually, which perhaps should have startled you more than his sudden words.

But you were too happy to enjoy some quiet (you would never say “peace and quiet,” not down here, not with him); all too happy to curl up in your haphazard nest on the floor with some books that took you away from this place. Away from Mahito.

Who was, of course, still here. Lounging in his hammock with a pile of books sagging down the netting.

You couldn’t tell exactly what he was reading from down here--you probably needed new glasses, a subject you were certainly not going to bring up with Mahito, who might reiterate his offer to “fix” your eyes. It looked like a bundle of pages stapled together. Maybe he went to the library and printed off obscure articles to read again.

“Hey,” he calls down, and the first hint of worry begins to prickle on your arms at his uncharacteristically serious tone, “Answer me.”

Your mind stutters, tries to put one word in front of the other, and make sense of it all.

The smiling man? The smiling man, the… ah. From Small Spaces. The otherworldly supernatural entity who lives in a world behind mist and has a penchant for making deals with people for their greatest wishes.

It’s not your fault that you haven’t thought about him in ages. It’s not like you had copies of your books with you, and the fun you had with imagining him in an endless number of scenarios had fallen by the wayside considering your circumstances.

It’s hard to daydream about worlds behind mist and cornfield servants when you’re watching people be turned into grotesque experiments that had them, sometimes quite literally and loudly, begging for death.

Mahito is looking down at you now, staring expectantly.

“He’s a character,” you say, fidgeting on the floor. “From a book series.” You look down, flip a page in your book, although you haven’t finished reading the last one, and ask, casually as you can muster: “Why?”

Mahito, up above, flips a page. You can hear the wobble in the paper--not a bound book, that’s for certain. And there’s some low, primal sense that shivers through you which says, plainly, that he’s actually reading whatever’s in front of him.

“You write about him a lot.”

Oh.

Low, slimy dread filters into your stomach. Thick and gelatinous, resting at the bottom of your belly like an unwanted slug.

“I… don’t know what you mean,” you say, voice only half-there, because while you are apparently stupid enough to lie to Mahito’s face, you’re not stupid enough to think he’ll believe you.

You are just stupid enough to think that he won’t know exactly how deep your interest in this particular character goes; before Mahito took you, you thought about him all the time. You’d take walks and daydream about him, write story after story; you’d even commissioned fanart of him, because it wasn’t like there was a plethora of fanart for a character from a middle grade horror book.

Mahito huffs out a sigh. Quick and short, it sends a shock right down your stomach.

“Get you a man,” he starts, and confusion buzzes through your brain until he continues. “Who is an otherworldly entity that is so petty when an 11 year old beats him that he traps her in another world, leaving her to a fate worse than death, and laughs until he cries about it.”

You wrote that. There’s a vague memory of when you posted it--after you’d taken a walk, you think, and reread your favorite parts in the books for a few hours. But the way Mahito says it makes it sound--you don’t know how to explain it. Like saying the words out loud almost pains him; they come out clipped and bitter.

Bitter? But why?

He doesn’t stop there. He reads something else, voice getting higher, almost mocking the way you talk. And that bitterness is still there, a thread continuing through every syllable.

“What if we kissed in the corn maze before you turned me into a scarecrow servant whose soul slowly gets dried out and useless and in the end you feed it, crunchy and tasteless, to your hellhound.”

He takes a breath. Then--

“One particular aspect of the Smiling Man’s cruelty that I truly adore is that he can make people feel understood. He can make them feel like he cares, like he’s lending a listening ear, like he’s wanting to help them out and make them feel nice.”

Another breath--and he continues, again and again, reading your posts. Quoting your stories. Listing off the titles, the imagine posts, everything you’ve said about him.

All the while, bitter and mocking, his voice raising now and then in an imitation of your own.

Then he gets to the last page of his clearly self-created tome and stares down at you, waiting, expectant.

And you… you actually glare up at him.

Because you're scared, sure. You’re always scared in some way, when you’re with Mahito. But there’s something else too, something that digs its way out of the rot in your gut and sticks up a petulant middle finger.

How dare he do this. How dare he take something that was yours and make it his; put it in his mouth and sneer over it.

“Have you been--” Your mouth sticks together, refusing to let you accuse him of what you know he’s been doing. Stalking your online profiles. “That’s… that’s private,” is what you finally mutter, cheeks feeling hot and that half-buried petulance pushing you forward. “It’s not any of your business.”

“Private?” He mutters the word softly, cradling the sound.

And then--

Mahito doesn’t often move fast around you. He prefers to be slow, languid. Calculating. You think it’s because that terrifies you more.

But now, in a moment, he goes from being slouched in his hammock to leaping down and crouching right in your face--there’s sudden pain in your head, and you realize he’s grabbed your hair and yanked it back.

That metaphorical middle finger sinks back down into the slimy gut sludge.

“Not from me,” he says, low, a warning. “Not for you.”

This is all it takes for tears to prick inside your eyes.

Mahito’s lips quirk up. Just a little. Just enough for you to notice.

“You’re going to cry already? I didn’t even do anything.”

Your eyes dart up and back, towards where he’s currently gripping your hair hard enough for it to sting.

He sighs through his nose. “This isn’t anything. You know that. Don’t be childish now.”

But--he lets go of your hair, and doesn’t grab for you when you scoot backwards on your blanket nest. Instead, he plops himself down, crossing his legs and resting his chin on his elbow.

You don’t speak. You don’t want to, and you don’t know what to say. Sometimes it’s better to be quiet around Mahito, so he doesn’t get ideas. Although he comes up with them on his own just fine, even if you try to stay silent.

It’s Mahito who breaks the silence.

“Why do you like him so much?”

How silly, to feel embarrassed right now. With the creature in front of you, and what he can do. But that’s what makes your cheeks burn: embarrassment.

“I don’t know,” you mumble, because while you are stupid in so many ways, you’re still smart enough to know he wants an answer. “I guess I just like antagonist characters sometimes.” Well, most of the time. But it’s better to keep that from Mahito, if you can.

Mahito’s lips quirk here and there while he thinks. Then he looks at you with something like genuine confusion.

“You say that you like how awful he is. The awful things he does. So…” He tilts his head a little. “You should like me. Right?”

Your fingers pick at the loose threads of your clothes. Your eyes don’t meet his entirely--they flick up and down, from your legs to his face.

“It’s not the same thing,” is what you come up with. But how to explain that to a curse?

Mahito frowns.

“I don’t understand.” No bitterness, no pouting. A simple statement of fact.

“He’s not real.” You swallow against the minefield that all of this is making you step through, hoping you’ll avoid them. “But you are. That makes it different.”

Mahito leans forward, grabbing your wrists, pulling you closer to him with a yanking, childish gesture.

“So you should like me more,” he says, a slight pout in his tone. “Because I can really do those things.” His eyebrows raise, and you swear you can hear a buzzing light bulb go off. “I could turn someone into a scarecrow for you.” He smiles, sudden, excited. “Do you want me to find some school children to torment?”

“No!” Your voice cracks. There are brief images in your mind--the people he’s tortured and killed, experimented with, before you were here and while you’re here and probably after you’re dead and gone--and you shake them away.

Mahito’s eyebrows furrow. He groans and rolls his eyes backwards until they are entirely white, not in mockery or an attempt to scare you, but in irritation. Fingers squeeze your wrists briefly and let go, and you stay quiet, trying to fight your urge to cry, until Mahito slowly rolls his eyes back to stare at you.

His gaze flicks over you, until he catches your eyes with his.

“You won’t write about him anymore.”

You don’t take a moment to answer this time.

“I won’t.”

“You won’t read those books anymore.”

“I won’t,” you stay. “I haven’t. I--don’t even have copies anymore.”

Mahito smiles, a little. Maybe it’s a good thing you never asked him to find you a copy, a thought which had been a brief temptation a while back.

And then he leans in closer again, until his nose touches yours.

“You won’t think about him anymore,” he says, quiet, solemn. Not an order but a matter of fact.

You don’t answer. You swallow against a bitter taste in your throat; you swear, sometimes, that the sludge in your gut is real and tries to make its way out sometimes.

Mahito presses his nose against yours until it starts to hurt.

“You won’t,” he says again, this time more to himself. “I’ll make sure of it.”

#yandere mahito #yandere jjk #mahito x reader #smiling man #look two obsessions in one!#afterwitch writes

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raz-writes-the-thing · 11 months ago

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Naughty Thoughts (Venom One-Shot)

Venom x Eddie Brock x Fem!Reader 18+ ONLY / Requests are open

Summary: Venom discovers your dirty thoughts about him and his tongue.

Fic type: smut

VENOM: @0alk0msan @romeosix1 (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

___ ___ ___ ___ ___

When Eddie had first told you about Venom, he’d been unsure how you’d take it. Would you run for the hills? Would you beat him up with your backpack? Would you scream at him? Would you call him names? All valid questions, really. Eddie was an anxious person at the best of times anyway, so all of that was pretty on-brand for him.

You had done none of those things, although you had contemplated running for the hills briefly but once you met Venom, and found out how sweet he really was under the macho exterior, well, you didn’t take long to get close to him.

At first, Venom had kept quiet during your sex life with Eddie, having had the whole privacy thing repeated into his head so much that he finally listened just to make Eddie stop. Your sex life with Eddie was good- he was a good lay, and you loved him, too. So it was just a win-win all around but as you grew more comfortable with Venom being around all the time, you began to wonder- did he have a sex drive, too?

So, of course, the first time Venom hitched a ride with you, it had been the first intrusive thought that popped into your head. And, of course, Venom heard it.

“NAUGHTY THOUGHTS FOR A NAUGHTY LADY,” Venom breathed from the back of your brain. It was weird to hear his voice so crystal clear from within yourself. It was a little disconcerting if you were completely honest.

“You weren’t supposed to hear that,” you replied, flushing profusely. Eddie sat opposite you, having just transferred the little goop alien from his body to yours. His head cocked to the side in question.

“What’s he saying?” Eddie asked, leaning forward.

“Nothing,” you replied at the same time as Venom, whose head appeared over your shoulder to answer his usual ride, saying-

“Our little minx wants to know about our sex drive, Eddie-”

You groaned, slapping a hand over your face in pure embarrassment. God, this could not get worse. You risked a glance at Eddie, sure that you would find horror there. You were wrong. On Eddie’s face was a mix of quiet interest and something much darker and lustful. You bit your lip, your brain immediately conjuring an image that was just absolutely filthy.

Oh shit, wait-

“Eddie,” Venom said, tongue licking a little stripe up the length of your jaw. “She’s filthy-”

Eddie arched a brow, eyes boring holes into you. You could practically see the gears turning in his brain as he tried to figure out what was going on between the both of you. You couldn’t deny how the humiliation of having Venom out you like this turned you on- not that you’d ever admit it to yourself.

“Tell him what you’re thinking, Pet- or should we?”

You chewed on your lip, unable to make the words come out. Venom chuckled in your ear.

“She wants us to eat her while you watch, Eddie,” Venom all but growled. You jolted as you felt tendrils of his waxy form curl around your arms and legs, slowly wrapping around like a python with its dinner. The thought of being Venom’s prey had you squeezing your thighs together.

“Does she?” Eddie replied, a visible tent growing in his jeans. You averted your gaze only for one of Venom’s soft tendrils to cup your chin and bring you to face him. He looked hungry.

“Can we?” Was all Venom asked, the milk-white of his eyes darkening just a little. His tendrils curled around on your limbs a little tighter with excitement and you felt the tendrils on your legs inch closer and closer to your cunt.

You nodded, cheeks pinking.

“Y-yes,” you breathed out, “please, V.”

That was all the encouragement Venom needed, suddenly using his tendrils to undo your skirt and rip your panties from your body. He would have ripped up the skirt too if you hadn’t given him a warning glare internally.

The tendrils forced your legs apart as far as they could go, and you sucked in a breath when you heard the groan that escaped both Eddie and Venom at the sight of your cunt clenching around nothing.

You were very slick, you could tell. Partly due to your own imagination, but you were also pretty sure Venom was using his influence on your body to excite you even further now he’d gotten permission.

The tip of a tendril poked at your folds, experimentally pushing just past the entrance. You squirmed with desire- wondering just what it would take to have him tendril-blast you to orgasm.

“All you need to do is ask, Pet,” Venom answered verbally, and then the tendril was swelling in size and pushing further inside you. You keened as he started to move, slow at first but rubbing on all the right spots to shoot pleasure right up your spine.

“Venom-” you gasped out, straining against the tendrils keeping you spread open for him. “Please, I- your tongue-”

Venom chuckled but obliged. He brought his head down to settle between your legs and flicked his tongue out against your clit. You jolted at the directness and tried not to grind against him- not that you could move much anyway with the way you were restrained for him.

The tendril inside you jolted and wriggled as Venom finally started to lick at your clit. You squirmed under his ministrations and moaned with the way the tendril fucked your insides. Venom was whispering in your mind all the filthy things he wanted to do to you- what you tasted like, how Eddie was getting off on watching you fuck him.

Then, the tendril retreated, and you whimpered with discontent. You’d gone from feeling so full to so empty and you didn’t like it. You didn’t have to wait long, though, of course, as Venom’s tongue slid down your slit, over your bundle of nerves and into your hole. His writhing, wet tongue pushed inside you, licking at your walls and rubbing against that one spot he knew drove you insane.

You cried out, fighting against the restraints but unable to do anything but take it.

You saw a flash of teeth as Venom pushed his tongue further inside you, fucking you with it like you were nothing more than a sex toy for him. The thought had you picturing him fucking you with his tendrils in all your holes, using you- and you heard Venom’s sound of interest in your brain.

“OH, YES- NEXT TIME, PET,” you heard his voice internally and you clenched your cunt around his tongue as he flooded your brain with images of what he was promising to do to you.

You shook against him as his tongue started to writhe properly now, laving and fucking in and out of you to wring every single ounce of pleasure out of you. You’d never had something so deep inside you before- never mind someone so hungry to eat you from the inside out.

You felt that coil beginning to tighten, tighter and tighter as Venom forced you towards orgasm whether you were ready for it or not.

“CUM FOR US,” Venom growled from the back of your mind. “PAINT OUR TONGUE WITH YOUR RELEASE.”

You were so close to being pushed over that edge that all it took was Venom brushing your clit once more with one of his tendrils to make you cum, jerking and roiling against your restraints as Venom hungrily licked up all of your release. You wailed as the overstimulation started to set in, and you heard Eddie finish behind Venom.

The sound of his pleasured grunting had you clenching feebly around Venom’s tongue once more before he finally withdrew. You panted and twitched as the aftershocks of such a powerful orgasm wracked through you, and Venom slowly unwound his tendrils from you so he could nestle back inside your body.

You looked over to Eddie and encouraged him to come and lay with you.

Internally, you could feel Venom rubbing up against you much like a cat did when they were incredibly happy.

“WE LIKE TO MAKE YOU CUM FOR US, PET,” he practically purred. You chuckled tiredly and clenched your thighs together, clit still pulsing with leftover pleasure.

“Maybe later, V,” you replied, feeling sleep start to pull at your senses. “You have a promise to keep, remember?”

You brought back the images that Venom had put into your mind and felt him practically vibrate with excitement.

“WE LOOK FORWARD TO IT.”

Eddie had his arm wrapped around you and had been watching this (from his perspective) one-sided conversation rather quietly.

“What’s this?” He asked, nosing against your neck. You sighed contentedly and replied-

“The encore.”

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merakiui · 21 days ago

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terror in threes.

yandere!rollo flamme, fellow honest, & skully j. graves x (female) reader cw: yandere, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, nsfw, slight flavoring of religion (father rollo flamme strikes again), murder, death, brief descriptions of blood/gore, age gap for reader (19) and fellow (26), physical abuse (beating), unplanned pregnancy, slut-shaming, kidnapping, coercion, obsession, delusion, stepcest, non-consensual kisses, all three characters written as 18+ note - three short horrors featuring the halloween trio in: MERCY, the terrifying tale of a vindictive priest; ON A DARK, STORMY NIGHT, the chilling caution against getting into a silver-tongued stranger's vehicle; MERRY, the shocking story of a twisted stepbrother led by a one-sided love that is not meant to be. // inspired by this brilliant artwork. thank you to the bestie @heyyy11 for discussing these thoughts with me. :D

MERCY.

Bent over the sink, you watch yourself in the mirror while your boyfriend pounds into you from behind. His fingertips dig into the soft flesh of your hips; your dress is bunched up in messy wrinkles and ruffles.

“Some—ooh—someone might come in,” you grunt, attempting to lift yourself onto your arms and failing miserably when he all but pushes you against the counter with a particularly rough thrust.

“Don’t worry about it, baby,” he says, gazing at your blissed-out reflection. “Everyone’s gone home. Candlelight service’s over.”

“Yes, but—” you tamp down a bawdy moan— “I just worry.”

About someone catching us. About getting locked in.

“Aren’t we in God’s house? It’s supposed to be safe twenty-four seven.”

“If you say so…”

“So don’t worry.” He leans over to kiss the top of your head. You collapse against the sink. “There you go. Just relax. I gotcha.”

You shrug off your inhibitions and surrender to the pleasure. One hand slides away from your ass to reach between your thighs. You mewl like you’re in heat, arching your back the moment his fingers brush your clit. Now you feel like you’re floating, every frazzled nerve smoothed out once you feel the waves of encroaching orgasm lapping at your insides. But just before you can unravel, his hand covers your mouth.

Confused, you meet his stare in the mirror.

“Shh.” He holds a finger to his lips. “I heard someone outside.”

You roll your eyes. Either it’s his attempt to scare you or make the situation seem sexier. You think it’s the latter when he tears his eyes away from the door and resumes his thrusting. His hand falls from from your mouth, and soon your voices are mixing together, echoing off the tiled walls of the bathroom.

“I’m close,” you gasp, clenching tightly. “So close. Oh, I’m—”

The door creaks open then. You almost don’t hear it until someone loudly clears their throat. Like well-oiled clockwork, you and your boyfriend turn to look at him. For a moment, you forget he’s Father Flamme. Without his black cassock and holy accompaniments, he looks like a normal person.

“Ahem.”

Immediately, you’re pulling away from your boyfriend and pushing your dress down. “F-Father Flamme, we’re so sorry!”

Stern greens flick quietly from your bare legs to your face. His arms are folded behind his back.

“Damn,” your boyfriend mutters, visibly agitated. You’d feel the same if it wasn’t for the scalding embarrassment rushing through your blood.

He regards the both of you coldly, a disapproving frown etched on his face. “Why are you apologizing on his behalf? He has a mouth of his own.”

Taken aback, you open your own mouth to apologize once again and then shut it. Your boyfriend hurries to stuff himself into his slacks and then stands protectively in front of you.

“Think you should apologize first for looking at my girlfriend,” he sneers.

Father Flamme is silent for a moment. “Of course,” he finally concedes. “I should apologize.”

“Then do it—”

“I should apologize,” he continues, sardonic, “for providing her with a love far superior than the foul, impure lust you’ve shown her.”

“You take that back!”

Your boyfriend surges forward, determined to beat a proper apology out of the priest, and you, rather helplessly, grab at his shirt. He stops rigidly in his tracks when a pistol is pulled from Father Flamme’s back and aimed directly at him. Your gasp hitches at the back of your throat. Suddenly, the world is encased in a jar of molasses. You don’t see the bullet, but you hear it go off. The bang pierces the tranquility of the bathroom, lodging itself in your ears until they’re ringing. You drop to your knees and press your palms into your ears, squeezing your eyes shut. You hear your boyfriend collapse in a heap, but you don’t see the brain matter splatter against the wall.

It’s a clean shot, but just to be perfectly precise Rollo fires once more into his chest. Right at his heart. Chancing a glance at the wall behind you, you scream when you see the blood. Some of it has even managed to get on you, staining your skin and your white dress. Instinctively, you scramble away from the body, pressing yourself into the corner.

“May God have mercy on his soul,” he murmurs, ensuring the safety lock is flicked on before placing the gun on the counter. “And may He forgive these hands that have been soiled in the name of justice.”

You wrap your arms around yourself in a self-soothing hug and stare blankly ahead.

That…just happened. He killed your boyfriend. Father Rollo Flamme killed your boyfriend.

Water rushes into the basin next. He rolls his sleeves up. You listen to him as he washes his hands of sin, scrubbing it from his skin with scentless, antibacterial soap. Your stare falls upon the gun, but the idea is promptly burned away when you meet his frigid stare in the glass. He’s watching you, his lips pursed in a thin line. Not quite a frown, but not quite a smile either.

“It baffles me that you would allow a sinner to defile you like this. You, who are so good and pure, a noble heart… Ah, but you aren’t at fault. That despicable pest has been exterminated, so there’s no need to point fingers. The blame shall die with him.”

You sniffle, tears clouding your eyes.

“I apologize you had to see that.” He dries his hands and then, wetting a fresh towel with soap and warm water, kneels before you. “To have tainted you in that sinner’s blood… I implore your forgiveness.”

Gently, he dabs at the mess. You can’t back up any further, but you certainly try with this startling proximity, squirming uncomfortably when he drags his knuckle along your cheek.

“Why?” you whisper, utterly, indescribably haunted.

“Did you not hear me earlier?” He offers you a warm smile, but it only makes you feel cold. “I intend to love you chastely. His ‘love’ is worthless—nothing but lust disguised as pure adoration. He failed to appreciate you in life, and thus it is a failure he shall die, his ugly sin exposed for the world to behold.”

Father Flamme presses the cloth to your cheek next. Not to clean blood, but to wipe the tear streaks and the nonexistent mark of where his fingertips once lingered.

“I have saved you from that monster. It may not seem so at this moment, for you are a lost lamb blinded by devilish temptations, but you will realize later this was for the best.”

You can’t form the words. You can’t even form thoughts. It’s all static.

“Do you understand, (Name)?”

You nod, but you really don’t.

ON A DARK, STORMY NIGHT.

You pace to and fro on the side of the road, clutching your stomach every fifteen seconds. Rain pelts your sweater, soaking through that and the little backpack hanging off of your shoulder with its single strap. There isn’t much inside. You could hardly pack it when your mother was in your ear, shouting a nasty set of lines: “You whorish, two-bit cunt! What do you think you’re doing, throwing away your life like this?! Who’s going to afford that parasite? Not me! Definitely not you! Not when you ought to be in school, not hopping on some man’s dick! Where is your shame?!”

Her slipper came down upon your arm, the back of your head, your neck, unrelenting in its whacks. You scrambled about in your room like a headless chicken, shielding your face and stomach when you could. She continued to berate you in that harsh, shrill tone of hers. Whenever your vision became blurred with tears, you had to hurry to blink them away so that they wouldn’t obscure your view of the path to the front door.

On your way out of your room, you managed to snatch an old sweater. She pursued in a furious flurry and this time you were sure, should she get a firm grasp on your arm, she’d kill you.

“Out! Out of my house!” she squawked when you stumbled down the steps in a blind panic. Rain wet your face, or maybe it was the tears. “You’re no child of mine. Don’t think about coming back here.”

The door was slammed so hard it shook in its frame.

So you gathered yourself, lifted your shirt to check the rounded dome of your stomach, and then pulled the sweater on over your head.

You walked. Past houses and storefronts, crossing busy streets, peering into the windows of a bar.

You walked. Under flickering lamp posts, through chilly rain, towards the edge of your broken world.

You walked. Until civilization gave way to sprawling darkness and trees. Until the path was muddied and slick. Until you were wading through thick, tall grass.

Now you walk up and down this strip of road, far from home and freezing-cold. You’re hungry, too. It’s been hours since the last car sped past, blissfully ignorant to your flailing arms and desperate shouts: “Wait! Please stop! Wait!”

You’re beginning to think you might die out here, alone and poor, a worthless nobody.

“Fuck,” you spit, wiping the tears/rain from your eyes. “Fuck!”

You kick a clump of grass onto the road and scream at the sky.

And then headlights roll over the hill, cutting through the gloom. Headlights that are attached to a car. A car!

Hope restored, you scurry onto the slick pavement and wave your arms about. When it seems like the car isn’t going to stop, you skitter onto the dirt path.

“Wait! Please wait!” you cry out, still gesturing wildly.

To your surprise and relief, the car eases to a stop just ahead and a window lowers slowly. It squeaks noisily, and you can hear the broken parts of the mechanism rattling inside the door. Happiness surges through you, and you approach the vehicle slowly. A figure comes into view, most of his face hidden in the shadows of his hood. He looks thoroughly soaked, as does the little boy snoozing in the passenger seat. He’s hugging a shovel in his sleep, a satisfied smile on his face. Both of them are clad in grimy, oversized raincoats. You think it’s dirt when you peer closely, but you’re not certain.

The man lifts his hand in greeting and you realize he’s wearing gloves.

“Well, hello there, little miss!” He flashes his teeth at you in a sharp, close-eyed smile. “Bit late to be out and about, don’tcha think?”

“I… I’m so sorry, but I desperately need a ride.”

A pair of brilliant orange eyes open to view you. He assesses you with a subtle once-over.

“A ride, you say? Hmm…” He strokes his chin with his hand, feigning deep thought. “Awfully unsafe for a lady to be wandering around in the dark.”

He could drive off any minute and you might never get a ride. You’re not sure how much longer you can last in this rain.

“I don’t have much money on me… I just… I really need to get out of this rain.” You cup the small bump hidden beneath your sweater and then flounder for the necklace around your throat. “I can give you this! A-And everything else in my bag. It’s not a lot, but maybe you can do something with it…”

The man raises a prominent eyebrow. The window is cracked just enough so he can look out at you, but you can’t reach in if you wanted to. Not that you would. Something about the filthy appearance of this man and his charismatic aura unsettles you. But he’s the second car you’ve seen tonight. The first car to have stopped for you. You can’t let this opportunity slip through your fingers no matter how suspicious he seems.

“What’s your name, little miss?”

“It’s (Name), sir. My mother kicked me out. I don’t have anywhere to go, but if you can just get me to the nearest shelter…”

He gazes through you rather than at you, his attention pinned on your stomach. A shadow passes over his face, but it’s quickly dispelled when he smiles.

“That doesn’t sound too difficult now, does it? I couldn’t possibly leave a little lady stranded in these elements. Why, anyone who would is simply heartless!” You hear the click of a lock. “Hop in. I’ll take you there.”

“Oh, thank you! Thank you so much!”

“Not at all. Thank you for stopping me. Otherwise I might’ve just passed you up.”

“I’m so grateful. I can’t thank you enough,” you confess, choking on your joy. You pull the door open and climb into the backseat. It’s very…messy, and it smells like smoke and wet earth and overall unpleasant things. Your nose wrinkles, but you remind yourself not to judge too scathingly. After all, you don’t look very neat yourself in your shabby sweater.

“You from around here?” the man asks once you’ve buckled in.

“Yes. Well, no. Um… I’m not sure how far from home I am.” You rub at your sore arms, teeth chattering. “I’ve j-just been walking all over, sir. U-Um… If I may, what’s your name?”

He scoffs lightheartedly, almost like it isn’t important. “I’m just an honest fellow trying to get home in this nasty weather.” This honest fellow indicates the boy beside him next. “It’s a bit of a drive and my little brother can’t quite stay up for the entirety of it. Kids, am I right? They think they’re stronger than the world with all of their confidence, but no one’s stronger than the inescapable call of sleep!”

You laugh into your hand, careful not to wake the boy. “I see. You must be coming back from a road trip then?”

“Precisely so, little miss. You’ve keen intuition.”

A comforting quiet blankets the inside of the car. You watch the trees pass while he drives. Eventually, they fall away to reveal a neighborhood you’ve never seen before. The houses are in disrepair, and everything looks grey. This isn’t where the shelter is, you realize, and your horror only multiplies when he turns down another road and parks in front of a decrepit-looking apartment complex.

“Time to wake up now.” He shakes the boy, who comes to with a few sleepy blinks. He notices you and smiles, waving with a flappy sleeve.

“Sir? Mr. Fellow—was it?—what is this place?” You shrink back into the car when he opens the door for you and offers his gloved hand.

“Why, this is the shelter!” He beams proudly. “Do you not see the windows? The roof? The shape of this lovely building? Clearly it is the shelter you’ve mentioned.”

“But this is…” Not that. Not the home I’m looking for. You hold your bag close to your chest and allow the honest fellow to help you out. The rain is but a soft pitter-patter now.

His hands fall upon your shoulders, trapping you in place. “What do you think, Gidel? I’d say this is better than any old shelter. Why, this is a glorious haven! As they say, a treasure is not yet treasure until it’s polished to a shine. Every gem is rough around the edges, wouldn’t you say so?”

The boy—Gidel—nods enthusiastically. You don’t trust him or the shovel he holds behind his back.

“Thank you for the ride. It was nice to meet both of you, but I can walk the rest of the way.”

“Nonsense! A lady should never walk alone at night. It’s much too dangerous.” He holds his hand over his heart and gasps dramatically. “My chest aches at the thought of it! What horrid beasts might lurk out there… You must allow us to show you just a pinch more of our hospitality. At least until this pesky rain abates.”

He smiles at you in a way that doesn’t give you a chance to get a word in. The car is shut and locked, and he twirls the key ring on his finger as he guides you towards the dingy building. Gidel hurries along after you, nodding in time with the honest fellow’s cheery humming.

MERRY.

Christmas music floods your brain, a loud, constant thrum of whimsical bells and chimes. The headphones are pulled from your person next, and suddenly a voice invades your pleasant dreams. Over and over, calling out to you…

“Sister…” A slight nudge. “Dearest sister of mine, please wake up…” A cold finger prods at your cheek.

Groaning, you shift in your sleep. The muscles in your face twitch with every persistent poke.

“(Name)?”

Your eyes peel open slowly, searching through the lamplight to find a pale face. “Huh… Mmh… What’s going on? Oh, it’s you, Skully. What’s wrong?”

He fidgets awkwardly where he stands. He almost looks like a real younger brother when he’s so restless, but his looming height is a reminder that he’s grown up just like you. With his gangly limbs, circular frames that sit crooked on his face, and unkempt bedhead with those troublesome strands that fluff up no matter how many times he smooths them down, he looks more like a deer caught in an oncoming car’s headlights.

You sit up in bed and rub the sleep from your eyes. “It’s way too early. The sun’s not even up yet! Why’re you awake?”

“I couldn’t possibly sleep,” he confesses, the words just spilling out, and he sounds ecstatically happy. “Not when Christmas is finally here. Aren’t you excited, Sister? Don’t you wish to see what Sandy Claws has brought us?”

Aren’t we a little old to believe in him still? you almost ask, but the question sticks in your throat when you notice the crimson speckled on Skully’s sweater vest. It stands out starkly against the white of his collared undershirt. Now you’re fully awake and worried. Very worried.

“Skully—”

“Come, come!”

He tugs at your arm, pulling the limp you from your bed. You allow yourself to be dragged like a ragdoll, led from the bedroom into the hall. The lights strung around the tree shine so brightly you can see their glow against the wall from the top of the stairs. His hand, cold and clammy, slides into yours. He’s always had a habit of clinging to you, of reaching for your hand, ever since the both of you were little. At your age now, it feels…weird. But his fingers are twining around yours and it’s impossible to pull away.

You descend the stairs with him and approach the sitting room. Dread pools in your stomach. You sniff at the air and choke on the acrid stench of iron.

“What is that?!” You pull your shirt up to your nose and attempt to yank away from him. “Skully, it smells gross.”

“No, it’s okay!” he assures, taking hold of your arm. A wobbly smile pulls his chapped lips apart. There’s a giddy mania spiraling in his orange eyes, and his voice lifts in pitch. His next words are spoken in a breathless ramble. “Just trust me. It’s a good gift. A great gift, really. You’ll see.”

You don’t want to see. Not when you spy a splash of liquid red staining the floor, peeking out at you from around the corner.

“Oh! Close your eyes. It’ll be a surprise!”

“Skully, I don’t want to. I… I don’t like surprises.”

“Oh, but this is a good one! I promise.” He squeezes your arm. “Please? You’ll like it.”

You doubt that, but his expression is so full of expectation that you give in with a sigh. Your eyes fall shut and Skully squeals in excitement.

“Wonderful! Allow me to escort you.” He sidles closer, his hands at your waist. “There… Just around this corner here. Oh, careful now. Watch your step.”

Your nostrils prickle at the intense smell. The path he leads you through is deliberate. You’re about to open your eyes, but then his large hands fall over them.

“Not yet! I haven’t done the count.” He inhales a steadying breath. It rattles in his throat. “O-Okay. One. Two… Three.” His fingers part and then the veil lifts. “Merry Christmas, Sister.”

Nothing could have prepared you for what you find lying in front of you. Amidst presents wrapped in glittering foils are the brutalized corpses of your parents. They’re sprawled in a smattering of blood. In fact, blood is everywhere—flecked on the curtains, on the few ornaments hanging from the lowest boughs of the tree, on the wallpaper. You’re not sure if you can even call such slaughter a simple murder. This was a slaying. An execution. You spy the deep gash carved into your mother’s throat and your hands fly to your own neck. A ghastly shriek pierces the air, practically torn from your lungs.

Skully flinches, panic twisting his kind, youthful features. “Oh! Oh, no, no! Don’t cry.” He takes hold of your head, sandwiching it between both of his hands—hands that so cruelly cut down your mother and his father. “Please don’t cry…”

“Oh, my… My God… You… Y-You killed them!”

You peek at your stepfather out of some stupid instinct to hope for the best, and another sob bubbles up when you realize he and your mother are truly dead. Unable to look upon such a grisly scene any longer, you stagger away and turn sharply on your heel. Bile tinges your tongue, but you quickly slap a hand over your mouth and swallow it down. Skully braces you before you can fall over, wrapping his long arms around you from behind.

“For you!” he insists. “I did it for you—for us, dearest sister! They… They were going to send me away. I couldn’t allow that! If we were to be separated… It would tear my heart apart.” He clutches you tighter as if you’re a teddy bear. “I tried to explain it to them—truly, I did—but they couldn’t understand. They wouldn’t understand. So I had to do it, (Name). I couldn’t allow them to send me away. You understand, don’t you?”

Gingerly, he wipes your tears away and then leans in to press a kiss to your cheek. When that doesn’t change anything, he frowns.

Seemingly inconsolable, you continue to bawl even though your throat is dry and your head is aching and your heart is hurting. He releases his hold on you enough for you to stumble away.

Ever the adamant one, Skully tries again. He takes your hand in his and brings it to his lips. You slide down the wall and he follows you, caging you in the corner.

“Dearest sister of mine, don’t cry…”

His hand cups your cheek next, and his thumb swipes at a stray tear.

“I’m here for you. Always.”

Your shadows are splayed against wallpaper striped with blood. His looms over yours, almost swallowing it whole. In green and red lights, your reflections caught in glass ornaments, Skully seals that promise with a press of his mouth to yours.

#yandere twst #yandere twst x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere rollo flamme #yandere rollo flamme x reader #yandere fellow honest #yandere fellow honest x reader #yandere skully j graves #yandere skully j graves x reader #tw: stepcest #n/sfw

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michaela-o · 6 days ago

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Hi hello everyone :D🧡

So a while back i made a post about Cybertronians witnessing humans being feral when in fight or flight response or how humans act when we are on adrenaline in general because i really like this idea. But hear me out- :D

Protective, scared and angry human = very scary human

We all have this natural need and drive inside us to protect. Wether it's the person we love, family or friends. I myself am very protective when it comes to anyone i love. I would throw myself in front of a bear if i had to. Or i would fight anything and anyone if i had to protect the people i love.

Now imagine if the human was the size as an average cybertronian: (slight warning for blood at the end)

The Lost Light got under attack by the infamous DJD and everything goes to shit so quickly no one has time to react as the deadly members tear through the ship and with Tarn having one goal in mind and that was to find Megatron. His optics burning with lust for killing him. Eventually he finds him and they both fight together. The human is watching this from the security office locked in with other members of the Lost Light. They all watch in horror and worry as they both fight. But Tarn doesn't play fair. As Megatron gets knocked by him the other bots notice as the human's breath quickens, their frame is shaking a bit and their teeth are tightly gritted together. Their protective drive has woken up.

Enough is enough..

You know what Megatron did..but no one has the right to take away someone else's life..especially someone like Tarn...Megatron was almost like the father the human claimed to never have..

As the human turns swiftly to unlock the door the other bots try to stop them but the human is determined and full of anger and adrenaline as they push past the bots who are taken aback. The bots are not fast enough as the human is already sprinting towards the scene where everything was happening. So many thoughts and emotions ran through them as they sprinted..anger, fear (you know because it's still fucking Tarn)

But no they aren't backing away now.

As they round a corner they barely make it in time because Tarn was already aiming his canon at Megatron.

The human suddenly jumps in front of Tarn and they srunch their nose and bare their teeth at him, their arms spread over Megatron. Tarn stares in disbelief and then he chuckles. You may be the size of a cybertronian but you're still a fragile dumb human.

"If you want him..you're gonna have to go through me first.."

As the human growled no one wanted and couldn't believe what they were seeing and hearing back at the security room on the cameras. Thats it the human has gotten crazy. NO ONE would do a thing like this. It's like you were asking to be killed. It's the DJD.. Even Megatron's expression almost changed to bewildered and wide eyed.

Of course the human got a good beating from Tarn but there was just something in them. This weird wild look in their eyes as blood dripped down their forehead into their eye and down their chin. Scratched and battered with at least 4 broken ribs they still stood with determination. Tarn was enjoying this but it was getting frustrating and on his nerves. Tarn is deadly and strong but the human was agile and quick. As Tarn was about to finish Megatron once again (because he thought the human was finished) they once again threw themeselves in front of him with this crazy look in their eyes and the next words rang out in everybody's ears.

"Over, my, dead body..."

The human was shaking, growling and huffing slowly loosing their strenght but reinforcements were quickly arriving and the DJD was in disadvantage so they had to fall back but of course Tarn would be back and would take the human with him the next time.

And this is how i think bots view this :3

From the cybertronian perspective:

The bots, often more concerned with survival and the war’s toll on their world i think would most likely react with shock. Tarn is a fanatic Decepticon who enforces ideology without mercy, would represent the last person they’d expect a human to stand against. They might interpret the human's bravery as foolhardy or even reckless, given Tarn’s terrifying reputation, but they may also see it as a powerful symbol that courage and conviction can transcend size and power.

From Tarn's Perspective:

I think Tarn, who worships Megatron’s original vision and detests any deviation from it, would be utterly incensed. The idea of a human—whom he views as nothing more than an insect—intervening to protect Megatron would enrage him. He’d view it as an ultimate insult to Megatron's legacy and to the Decepticon cause, likely intensifying his resolve to destroy them both to "cleanse" this offense.

Aaaa i hope you enjoyed reading as much as i did writing :3🧡 here i also drew a picture of the human so you could imagine the whole scenario better :3

#transformers #transformers headcanons #transformers x reader #digital art #small artist #art #procreate app #yandere transformers #transformers mtmte #mtmte rodimus #michaela o writings #mtmte tarn #djd #humans are scary #humans are space orcs #tf mtmte #idw mtmte #transformers lost light

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baddestboy · 2 years ago

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“Why the fuck are you here.” Bakugo growls out after opening his front door and sees you outside, holding a tower of tupperware so high that he can barely see your face.

You rolled your eyes. “Relax, dude. I’m not here to beat your ass. Now get out of the way, my arms are killing me.”

Bakugo steps aside as he narrowly misses your shoulder check, and trails after you like a lost puppy as you enter his kitchen so, so naturally like you live there and start putting away the food containers you brought into his fridge.

He's transfixed by the thought of you living with him. He's probably imagined it so many times until…

He clears his throat to break the silence, arms crossed in judgment as he leans back the kitchen counter to watch you. “You haven’t answered my question, dumbass. The fuck you’re here for?”

After closing his refrigerator door with your hip, you turn to face him and shoot him a charming, sweet smile that gets him caught off guard for a split second, before he scowls at you.

You laugh a little, letting up. “Mitsuki asked me to come over and check in on you while she was visiting my mom. She all but forced me to get into her car and dropped me off here unceremoniously, and now I'm stuck here with you."

His scowl deepened after hearing your explanation. "That damn hag, always poking her nose in my fuckin' business."

"She's just concerned, y'know. She thinks you don't have any friends—"

"The fuck you're saying? Of course I do–"

"She means outside of hero work, dummy."

He scoffs. "How many times do I have to tell that woman that it's none of her concern."

You winced in mock pain and clutched your chest dramatically. "So you don't consider me as a friend, Bakugo?"

He rolls his eyes and moves closer to you, putting his hands on your hips and growls in your ear. "You obviously know you're more than that, dumbass."

You laughed and put your arms around his neck, drawing him closer. "It's so hard to pretend that we're not dating, Katsuki. I really like you a lot."

Bakugo's ears turned red and he tried to look away from you, before grumbling something under his breath that sounded suspiciously a lot like "....I like you a lot too."

You enjoyed the comfortable silence and leaned into his chest for a moment, before you decided to speak up again.

"Anyway, I know that we both decided to keep it a secret first so you could prepare telling your mom, but I think I kinda made it a little bit obvious that I was happy to see you…?"

He stills. "What?"

You sense his panic and wince. "Oh no. Sorry, babe. Surely she doesn't know…?"

He swears and immediately untangles himself from you, before looking at his front door in horror.

Bakugo rushes to open the door, where Mitsuki was not-so-subtly eavesdropping with a big shit-eating grin on her face.

When he confirms his suspicions, he groans. "You old hag. You knew all along, didn't you?"

Mitsuki shrugs innocently. "What can I say, it's a mother's instinct. Katsuki, come with me for a moment."

She winks at you before pulling Bakugo's ear and drags him out into the hallway, where she whisper-yells at Bakugo things that made him turn wide-eyed and his face a very bright red.

Once she was satisfied, she pushes Bakugo back into his apartment. "I'll be leaving you both to it. Have a great night, love birds!"

Mitsuki winks at you again and closes the door with a resounding click, finally leaving for the night.

You and Bakugo look at each other awkwardly, not knowing what to say to each other after his mother's meddling.

"...so, does this mean that she supports us dating?"

"The old hag's already naming her future grandchildren."

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whoopsyeahokay · 8 months ago

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October Sun

summary: your mother had warned you. Don't let them know, she'd said, her nails digging angry crescents into the flesh of your upper arms, eyes wild and imploring, don't let them know you can see. you'd listened, all these years, you'd lived your life by that rule. until you couldn't.

pairing: Wally Clark x fem!reader

warnings: eventual smutty smut smut. and mad spoilers. and obvious Canon divergence. very involved, very dense plot.

bon reading, frens

___________________________💀

OCTOBER SUN pt.1

Like most things, it started with a look.

A boy. A girl. A crowded place; a friend talking—their voice muted as if heard through a motel wall. Time slows. People filter in and out of the space between, chatting, laughing, in frame just long enough to emphasize the weight behind something that, in any other context, would be utterly unimportant.

Simon had urged you outside at lunch, pulled you away from your table, tone frayed in desperation as he interrogated you about things you're certain you'd made seem the expression of a morbidly quirky imagination.

"Well," He said, like jabbing the eraser-end of a pencil into your sternum, "Can you?"

You hesitated, gaze lifting away from his to skirt the middle-distance behind him.

And then—

It happened molasses-slow. Your eyes caught his; lingered a beat too long to be played off as anything other than what it was. Acknowledgment.

Those sweet-sultry cow eyes widened a fraction.

Oh no.

Then time rushed back in and snapped into the correct rhythm. You didn't have a chance to process what had just happened because Simon sighed with the weight of the world, grabbing fistfuls of his hair and pulling. Quickly, you arranged your expression into something slightly put-off.

"Si, what are you talking about?"

Simon groaned and took a few steps back then forward again. He reminded you of a caged animal being forced to perform. Lately, his mannerisms had been erratic, a little unhinged. You'd caught him talking to himself a couple of times, in classrooms or the cafeteria. The last couple of days he'd been glued to his phone, taking spontaneous calls that he'd never received before. Initially, you'd assumed he was in touch with Maddie; the only one she'd trusted enough to keep in the loop. However, the more you'd observed, the more you'd doubted the assumption.

You'd watched him unravel from a distance, of course. Nicole had turned inward, Simon was bursting at the seams, and you, as the casual friend with a life separate to theirs, stayed away out of a sense of insecurity.

You and Maddie hadn't been as close as she and Simon and Nicole. You shared interests in the macabre and spooky, but that's where it ended. Event Buddies who became familiar through exposure, lacking that profound connection that would give you a reason to call about something other than the next horror film release date.

You didn't feel right about asking to share their grief. It felt intrusive.

Simon paced the length of the bus shelter once more before stopping in front of you. He was clearly nervous, frustrated, avoiding your gaze for a second while he collected his thoughts.

Finally, he took a deep breath, glanced around to make sure no one was within earshot, and said, low and secret, "You talked about the ghosts here—" You folded your arms and tilted your head in what you hoped came across as confused. "—Last year," Simon grabbed your arm and pulled you in closer when a group of younger girls walked by, "Last year, you told us about the crush you had on your mom's dead boyfriend, remember? The guy who died during the '83 homecoming game?"

"They never dated." You corrected, fighting the urge to chew your lip. A giveaway that you were about to choose your words very carefully. "But, look, Simon, I talked about that stuff because I thought it was fun. Not because I can commune with the dead."

"But your mom—"

"Is a fraud and you know it." Then you frowned, genuinely intrigued, "What's going on?"

Simon shot you a dazed look, "Huh?"

"Why are you suddenly into this Sixth Sense shit? You've never believed in it before. A stance you've made very clear you take." Every time you joked about reaching out to the Other Side, Simon would scoff and roast you endlessly. Something that you found endearing. Like a prickly inside joke. It was your thing.

Suddenly, Simon got that look on his face, the one he got in class when your teachers outlined your homework. As if he were listening to someone. Except there was no one else close enough to hear.

The silence stretched into a thin static between you until, at last, Simon said, "Never mind." He sounded equal parts defeated and aggravated.

Taking a cautious step forward, you placed a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry about Maddie, Si, I—" Have no idea how to put into words how fucked up it all is, "—I wish there was something, anything, I could do to help."

Simon pressed his lips together and nodded. From the corner of your eye, you saw a figure approaching the bus shelter. Tall, broad, donning the unmistakable colors of the Split River Bandits, née Devils. You had to get out of there before you irrevocably fucked up and found yourself at the center of what your mother warned you would be a swarm.

"Look," You dropped your hand to Simon's, squeezing supportively. You might not have been able to tell the whole truth but you could try to offer some comfort. Whether or not he believed you was up to him. "Maddie's okay, Simon. Wherever she is. Whatever happened to her..." You paused, considering your next words, "She can't be so far gone that we won't get her back."

You said it with all the conviction you had in you, believed it to your core.

You'd seen the beatnik with her lollipops, the shy boy with the glasses; you'd seen the young man in the outdated suit, and the modest, Sally Olsson lookalike, and the girl with the daydream eyes. You'd seen the myspace emo punk, the lanky autoshop geek, the dark-skinned disco queen; the marching band, and the theater kid...and him. The charming, high-on-life football star currently stood outside the bus shelter, his hands cupped around his eyes as he peeked through the glass against the glare of the sun.

You hadn't seen Maddie. Not a glimmer or a shadow or the impression that she'd been and gone. Nothing. And you'd done your due diligence as soon as you'd heard about the blood in the boiler room. You'd scoured the town after dark, before school, whenever you could get away without raising suspicion. Her old haunts and favorite places had been empty.

Minus a couple of exceptions, but they hadn't been Maddie, so you didn't see the harm in continuing to keep the truth from Simon.

"Yeah." Simon said. He didn't sound convinced. "Thanks. For that."

You deflated, released his hand with an affirming squeeze, and made your excuse, "I gotta get ready for next period."

He didn't meet your eyes, simply pulled his phone out and put it to his ear. "See you later." The smile he gave you was tight, quick, insincere.

Taking that as your cue to leave, you turned and exited the bus shelter, tall dark 'n' handsome keeping pace as you made your way back into the school, his gaze a warm weight on the side of your face.

All you had to do was pretend he wasn't there. You'd done it countless times in the past, were well-versed in how to cover your mistakes.

You stopped briefly, reached out to open the door, and in that second, you felt a tingle up your spine and the closeness of a body behind you. His voice, a gentle rumble, spoke directly into your ear, the parody of soft breath tickling the hairs on your neck.

"I know you can see me."

You forced yourself not to react, perhaps stood a second too long before yanking the door open and marching inside, but you kept your eyes forward, and relaxed your jaw and shoulders. To the students milling about the hall, you were the picture of normal.

"Do what you want but I'm not going anywhere until you admit it." He said lightly, a step behind you as you maneuvered toward your locker.

Once again, you had to stop, twisting in the combination to open your lock. You fumbled, missing a number, had to start again. He leaned his shoulder against the locker beside yours, watched you through his lashes, a smirk pulling one side of his mouth upward.

You'd always been attracted to him. Had to suppress the urge to stare at him when he appeared in the same classroom or hallway you happened to be in. Having him interact with you, intentionally, made your heart quicken and the ability to think critically dissolve.

Oh God, not again...

Your brain fired a thousand synapses in every direction as you willed yourself to hurry before you accidentally did something stupid; steadied your hand to input the combination correctly. You tugged the lock. It stayed stubbornly latched. And then he leaned in, too close, the tip of his nose practically grazing your temple.

"You missed the 3."

The air was syrupy thick, fuzzy. In an effort to concentrate, you closed your eyes, repeating a mantra your mother had taught you to center yourself.

You sensed his body shift, tilted further toward you like a bracket, then the sensation of blunt nails traveling up up up your back, catching in the material of your shirt as if the touch were real. Goosebumps erupted over your arms, your breath hitched, and you found your head slanting in his direction.

Fuck. You needed to—BANG—Jesus Christ!

Your eyes snapped open at the abrupt noise, your friend cackling wickedly as she took in your shock.

"Hey, silly." Mathilda Grace—of The Split River Graces, not that she'd ever say it like that—grinned proudly at the reaction she'd gotten out of you. "You ready to fail this test with me?"

You could still feel him hovering, but it seemed he'd put an appropriate amount of distance between you. Shaking your head to clear the last of the muzziness from a moment ago, you plastered on your most natural smile and responded, "Let's go disappoint our parents."

You managed to undo the lock and grab the right textbooks, transferring what you didn't need from your bag into your locker while Mathilda regaled you with what you'd missed after Simon had dragged you outside.

"What did he want, anyway?" Mathilda asked, more concerned than curious.

"To talk about Maddie." You replied as close to the truth as you dared. It had the added benefit of making Mathilda feel awkward enough to change the subject immediately.

"K, c'mon, bell's about to go and I need to grab my book, too."

Shutting and locking your locker, you chanced a sideways glance and were relieved to find that it was just you and Mathilda and the regular stream of other alive-and-well students making their way to their next class.

Still, as you and Mathilda walked toward Ms. Fields' class, you felt the tingle of his gaze on the back of your neck.

The next couple of days would be white-knuckle hard, but you'd dealt with it before and could do it again. Had to do it again.

What you didn't anticipate—and probably should've, given what you knew about him—was Wally Clark's steadfast determination and his refusal to let sleeping dogs lie for a second time.

💀___________________________

PART TWO

also available on AO3!

MASTERLIST

#Milo Manheim #Wally Clark #Wally Clark x Reader #fem!reader #Wally Clark smut #Wally Clark fanfiction #Milo Manheim fanfiction #School Spirits #October Sun

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simplygojo · 1 month ago

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GhostFace Ep. 1 - Toji

Author's Note: Happy first episode of the GhostFace series and happy Kinktober!! I have been super sick for the past week and a bit so I am SUPER behind schedule, due to that, I will continue to write the Kinktober requests into early November and will be accepting requests until October 31st! Tysm for all the kind words from my moots you guys are too kind ily so much.

I am only accepting requests from my Kinktober Prompt List, thank you <33

Pairing: Toji Fushiuro x f!reader

Kinks: Knife Play & Choking

Word Count: 2.7K

Kinktober Taglist: @megumisdivinedogs; @nanamisrighthand; @simplyyyuji

Warnings: 18+ SMUT, MDNI, knife play, oral, nicknames (princess & sweetheart), choking, aggressive sex.

You hadn’t thought he’d actually do it. When you teasingly mentioned how sexy Toji would look in a Ghostface mask, you didn’t expect him to run with it.

It was just a joke—a playful comment made while watching a horror movie together.

You’d nudged him, saying that if anyone could pull off being the villain, it’d be him, with that dangerous edge in his grin. He just shook off your comment and muttered something about costumes being stupid.

But it wasn’t surprising—Toji wasn’t exactly the type to indulge in things like that.

Besides, work had been taking up most of his nights recently, the kind of “side jobs” that didn’t allow for much downtime.

You’d gotten used to him coming home late, hours after you’d gone to bed, smelling like sweat and danger.

Tonight was supposed to be another one of those nights. He’d left earlier in the afternoon, throwing on that usual half-smirk as he kissed you goodbye and told you not to wait up.

You had settled in for a quiet evening alone, already anticipating the soft sound of the door opening in the early morning when he’d return.

But tonight, something felt off.

The lights in your house flickered out with an unsettling finality, casting everything in darkness. You grabbed your phone, illuminating the path as you stepped cautiously out of your bedroom.

“Toji?” you called, your voice echoing eerily in the silent house. No response.

There was a faint creak, and your heart skipped a beat. It had to be Toji. Right?

Just as you turned the corner into the hallway, you saw him.

He was leaning casually against the far wall, a tall, imposing figure cloaked in black, the stark white of a Ghostface mask glowing ominously in the dim light from your phone.

The shape of a knife glinted in his hand, and he stood there motionless, letting you absorb the sight of him.

Your breath caught in your throat, and your heart started pounding. Even though you knew it had to be Toji, the way he stared at you through the mask sent a rush of fear coursing through you.

He tilted his head slightly like he was considering you. Then, in a distorted voice from behind the mask, he spoke.

“So…” He paused, and the mask tilted as it stared at you, “do you like scary movies?”

Your grip tightened on your phone, fingers trembling, but not from fear. A surge of something else entirely coursed through you—an intoxicating mix of adrenaline and heat.

Without thinking, your thighs squeezed together, your body’s instinctive reaction to the dark, dangerous energy radiating from him.

The way he was playing into it—it was fucking hot.

“Toji…” You whispered, but your voice faltered as he stepped forward, slow and deliberate.

He slowly took a step forward, towering over you, the knife twirling between his fingers.

“I asked you a question,” he repeated, his tone still distorted, that same low growl sending shivers down your spine. “Do you like scary movies, princess?”

You swallowed hard, your back pressing against the nearest wall as he closed the distance. Even though you knew it was him, there was something primal about the fear creeping up your body—a kind of fear that tangled itself with arousal.

Your thighs clenched instinctively, heat building low in your belly despite the cold edge of danger he exuded.

“Yeah… I like ‘em,” you managed, your voice barely above a whisper, pulse racing in your throat.

“Good,” he murmured darkly, his masked face now inches from yours. “Because tonight, you’re gunna be the star.”

Before you could react, he grabbed your wrist with a bruising grip, pushing you even harder against the wall behind you. He pressed the cold blade of the knife pressed teasingly against your throat, making your breath hitch.

Even though you knew it wasn’t real, the sharpness of the metal sent a thrill through your body that left you trembling.

“You’re shaking,” he observed, amusement lacing his words.

“What’s the matter, baby? Didn’t you say I’d look good like this?”

A shudder ran down your spine, your heartbeat pounding in your ears as his gloved hand trailed down your side, the contrast of his roughness against your skin making you burn.

The pressure of the knife eased slightly, allowing you to swallow, though your breath remained ragged. He leaned closer, the distorted sound of his voice right against your ear.

“Tell me…” he growled, his fingers skimming over the waistband of your pj shorts, teasing.

“Do I scare you?” He grabbed your other wrist, holding it tight in one large hand above your head.

Your breath came out in short, trembling bursts, but it wasn’t fear that held you captive—it was the raw power, the dominance he exuded, that made you weak in the knees.

The blade slid down your chest down to your waist, the tip grazing over the soft fabric of your shorts. The metal was cold, sending shivers through you as he teased the waistband with it.

“Answer me,” he growled again, the impatience in his voice sending a new wave of heat pooling between your thighs.

“Yes,” you whispered, your lips barely moving. “But I…I like it.”

A dark, predatory chuckle escaped from behind the mask.

“I knew you liked it, it makes ya so desperate for me.” His grip on your wrists tightened, and with a deliberate, practiced motion, he slid the blade beneath the waistband of your shorts.

You felt the fabric give way, the sharp edge slicing through effortlessly.

In an instant, your shorts were slashed away, the cool air hitting your bare skin as they fell to the floor. You were completely exposed to him now, your body trembling under his control.

His gloved hand pushed your hair aside, lips brushing the back of your neck as he whispered, “I’m gonna take my time with you.”

Toji removed his hands from your wrists and slowly tilted the mask up so you could finally see the dark, desperate look in his eyes.

He slowly traced your curves as he made his way down your body, his big hands gripping your thighs roughly the handle of the knife pressed firmly against your thigh.

A low, dark chuckle escaped his lips as he spread you open, his gaze fixed on your glistening folds, and you could feel your pulse quicken in anticipation.

“Fuck… you’re dripping for me already,” he muttered, his voice distorted through the mask, the sound sending a wave of heat rushing through you.

Toji’s lips brushed against the inside of your thighs, a teasing, featherlight touch that made you gasp, your body arching toward him instinctively.

His hands gripped you tighter, holding you still, keeping you in place as he took his time, trailing wet kisses along your sensitive skin. Each press of his lips was deliberate, slow, drawing out your anticipation until it was almost unbearable.

The first flick of his tongue against your clit sent a jolt through your body, a strangled moan escaping your lips.

Toji didn’t relent. His mouth moved with calculated precision, his tongue swirling over your slick folds, lapping up your arousal as if he were starving for it. He was methodical, dragging his tongue from your entrance to your swollen clit in slow, torturous strokes, and you could feel every flick, every circle he traced.

Your hands clawed at the wall behind you, searching for something to anchor yourself to, but there was nothing. You were at his mercy, your body completely exposed to him as he worked you with his mouth.

“Mhf, Toji…” You whimpered, your legs shaking as you struggled to stay upright, the pleasure building inside you too intense to handle. But he wasn’t going to let you go that easily. His strong hands gripped your thighs harder, holding you in place as he buried his face between your legs, circling your clit with agonizing precision.

He moaned against you, the vibration making your body convulse in pleasure, your hips bucking against his mouth.

His lips wrapped around your clit, sucking it gently, and your vision blurred, the overwhelming heat coiling tighter and tighter in your core.

The sounds of him devouring you echoed in your ears, mixing with your ragged breaths and the filthy moans that were slipping past your lips.

Toji pulled back slightly, his lips grazing your entrance as he spoke, his breath hot against your slick skin. “Scream a little louder for me, c’mon princess.”

Before you could respond, his mouth was on you again, his tongue sliding inside you, thrusting in and out in a rhythm that matched the frantic beating of your heart.

Every movement of his tongue sent a shockwave through your body, your hips grinding against his face as you chased the release building inside you and a pornographic moan escaped your lips.

He groaned lowly against your core, the sound sending vibrations through you, making you cry out his name as you fell deeper into the pleasure.

Your hands found their way to his hair, gripping tightly as he devoured you with a reckless pace.

Toji’s lips moved faster, his tongue expertly swirling over your clit, and it was all too much. Your body tensed, the coil inside you snapping as a wave of ecstasy crashed over you, your moans spilling out uncontrollably as your orgasm washed through you.

Toji didn’t stop, his tongue continuing to work you through the aftershocks, drawing out your pleasure until you were a trembling, moaning mess in his hands.

Finally, he pulled away, his lips slick with your arousal as he looked up at you, the Ghostface mask still on top of his head, his eyes dark with lust.

“You look so fucking good like this,” he rasped, his voice thick with desire. “And we’re just getting started.”

He stood up slowly, his towering presence engulfing you as he wiped his lips with the back of his hand.

Without hesitation, his mouth was on yours, hot and hungry, tasting of you as his tongue claimed your mouth. The taste of your own arousal on his lips only deepened the heat coursing through your body, your hands fisting into his shirt as you kissed him back desperately.

The kiss was all-consuming, teeth clashing, tongues battling for dominance, each second stoking the fire burning between you.

His hand found your throat, fingers wrapping around it with a firm, possessive grip, cutting off just enough of your air to make your head spin.

Toji’s lips left yours, trailing wet, heated kisses down the line of your jaw until he reached your neck, where he bit down hard, marking you with his teeth.

You gasped, your body arching into his as he tightened his hold on your throat, the pain of his bite mixing deliciously with the pleasure flooding your senses.

“You like that?” He growled against your skin, his teeth grazing the delicate flesh of your neck before sinking in again, harder this time.

“I know you do. You’re fucking made for this.”

His hand squeezed your throat tighter, the pressure sending a dizzying rush of heat straight between your legs as he bit down once more, harder than before, like he wanted to leave his mark deep inside you, and you couldn’t hold back the frail whimper you let out.

You were completely at his mercy, pinned against the wall, your pulse racing as you struggled for breath.

The only thing grounding you was the raw, primal need coursing through you, the need for him to take you, to devour you whole.

Toji pulled back just enough to let you catch your breath, his eyes burning with desire as he gazed down at you.

Slowly, deliberately, he reached up and pulled the Ghostface mask back down over his face.

The sight of him—dangerous and predatory, hidden behind that mask—made your heart pussy throb even harder.

Without a word, he grabbed the knife again, the cold, glinting blade sending a chill through you as he brought it close to your skin. He was teasing you, letting the sharp tip glide over your bare stomach, tracing patterns as he watched your chest rise and fall.

Then, with agonizing slowness, he moved the blade up, dragging it over the curve of your breast, watching as it barely kissed your skin, tracing the swell of your tits with a precision that made you shiver.

You could feel the cold metal against your sensitive skin, the danger of it adding an edge to the pleasure already coursing through you.

Toji’s hand cupped your other breast, squeezing roughly, while the tip of the blade teased around your hardened nipple, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core.

“You like when I play with my knife, don’t you?” He rasped through the mask, his voice low and dark, dripping with dominance.

Before you could respond, he spun you around, your hands splaying against the wall as he pressed his body against yours, bending you over.

You could feel his hard cock straining against you, the rough fabric of his pants grinding into your ass as he tugged your hips back, positioning you exactly how he wanted.

“Keep your hands there,” he ordered, his voice commanding, leaving no room for argument.

A rough, calloused hand grabbed your waist, holding you steady, while his other hand traced the tip of the knife down your spine, sending shivers through your body.

The anticipation was unbearable, your body trembling with need as he finally dropped the blade, his fingers digging into your hips.

Without warning, Toji thrust into you, burying himself deep inside your slick heat. You gasped, the sudden fullness making your entire body arch against him as he fucked you hard, rough, every thrust forcing you up against the wall.

“Fuck… you feel so good, princess,” he growled through the mask, his hands gripping your hips so tightly you knew you’d be bruised tomorrow.

You pressed your hands against the wall, struggling to stay upright as your legs trembled beneath you.

Each powerful thrust sent waves of pleasure crashing through you, your needy whines spilling out uncontrollably, filling the room.

Toji’s hand found your throat again as he leaned over you, pulling you back slightly so your head rested against his chest. His grip tightened, cutting off your breath once more as he fucked you harder, deeper, each thrust sending you closer to the edge.

“M’don’t wanna hear no whining,” he snarled, his voice distorted behind the mask.

“You’re gunna take everything I give you.”

His pace became brutal, each thrust making your vision blur as the pleasure overwhelmed you.

You could feel your orgasm building again, the tension coiling tighter and tighter until it snapped, your body convulsing around him as you came hard, his name spilling from your lips in a choked, desperate cry.

Toji didn’t stop—He kept fucking you through it, chasing his own release as he growled in your ear, his hand never leaving your throat as he used your body for his pleasure.

Finally, with one last, deep thrust, he groaned loudly, spilling inside you, his grip on your throat easing as he collapsed against you, both of you panting and trembling in the aftermath.

Slowly, Toji pulled out and turned you around, lifting the mask just enough to reveal his face.

He leaned in, kissing you deeply, his lips soft and warm despite the roughness of everything that had just transpired.

His kiss was a stark contrast to the ferocity from before—gentle, almost tender, as if grounding you after everything you had shared.

He pulled back, his lips quirking into a smirk as he gazed down at you.

Without a word, he scooped you into his arms effortlessly, carrying you toward the bed. Your body melted against his, exhaustion starting to settle in, but a playful thought crossed your mind.

As he laid you down, you reached for the Ghostface mask still resting on top of his head, lifting it off before sliding it over your own face. The grin that spread across your face was hidden behind the mask as you looked up at him.

"My turn to play psycho killer," you teased, your voice muffled through the mask, though the playful challenge was unmistakable.

Toji chuckled, shaking his head as he leaned down to press a kiss against the mask where your lips would be.

“Careful what you wish for, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice low and dangerous, sending a thrill through you all over again.

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megxplryxb · 20 days ago

Text

Someone to Save You

Pairings: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Mostly fluff, slight mention of death (Billy), mention of violence (evil Russians), no use of y/n, set in Season 3.

Notes: Short fic that’s been unfinished in my drafts for far too long and I got tired of seeing it sitting there judging me.

"I guess we're gonna have to find new jobs now huh?" Robin laughs anxiously, brows raised, eyes wide as she tries her best to lighten the mood while you both sit in the back of an ambulance watching on as Hawkins finest attempt to extinguish the flames currently engulfing what remains of the Starcourt mall. It was clear the two of you were still visibly shaken up, trying to come to terms with everything that had happened in the last twenty four hours and a part of you wondered if you were still tripping from the drugs you’d been injected with earlier because there was no way you had actually fought a monster like creature from another dimension back in the food court, let alone gotten kidnapped and held hostage by an army of Russian soldiers.

The sound of sirens echoing throughout the parking lot made you wince as your head pounded in agony from the beating you’d taken at the hands of the guards during their unsuccessful interrogation of yourself and Steve. Looking down to inspect yourself, you see your Scoops uniform covered in blood and vomit, your legs and arms covered in cuts and bruises and the bottom of your lip split wide open, making you wonder how the fuck you had actually managed to make it out in one piece.

It was only supposed to be for fun, trying to translate that stupid Russian code. Something to do to pass the time during your shifts at Scoops Ahoy, a form of entertainment in between having to serve bratty children and stuck up parents their ice cream. It wasn’t meant to end up with you and Steve being beaten to a bloody pulp or with the mall burning down and it certainly wasn’t meant to end with the death of Billy Hargrove. Unfortunately, there was much more going on beneath the surface of Hawkins, Indiana than you could have ever imagined and somehow you’d managed to get yourself directly caught in the crossfire.

"Yeah, it looks like it." You eventually mutter, not really listening to your friend as she rambles on about how the government was going to cover all of this up, long zoned out, too focused on your handsome coworker to care about any cover up story.

Your eyes had been glued to Steve Harrington since the paramedics helped him to another ambulance across the lot to get checked out. Dustin Henderson was standing by his side as always, refusing to leave his friend and hero alone. His face and presumably his body were badly battered after the punishment he had taken during your time in the Russian base, trying his best to protect you and keep you safe. Steve had pleaded with the guards to let you go, promising he’d tell them everything they wanted to know once they guaranteed your safety but you refused to abandon him and in the end, you both suffered the consequences until Robin, Erica and Dustin had come to your eventual rescue.

Watching Steve get knocked unconscious had absolutely terrified you. His lifeless body unresponsive on the floor as you screamed for him to wake up, to move, to do anything just to let you know he was alive. When he finally came to, you wrapped yourself around him, sobbing uncontrollably into his chest with relief when he mumbled that he was ‘ok’, even managing to tease you for being a blubbering mess over him when you always claimed to hate him.

It was true, you did hate him back in High School. Couldn’t stand him or his shitty friends and the way they believed they were actual fucking royalty. But then you graduated, hoping to forget the trauma of Hawkins High, got a job working in Scoops Ahoy and to your utter horror, Steve Harrington was behind the counter wearing a god damn sailor outfit that didn’t even fit him right. Of course, Robin tried to tell you that things were different now, that he wasn’t the same asshole from school. His ‘King’ title long relinquished and his trust fund completely confiscated and in your eyes, it was karma and karma was a bitch. Admittedly, you were also a bitch, refusing to believe he’d actually changed his ways, giving the cold shoulder, throwing a harsh comment whenever the opportunity presented itself. It’s not like he didn’t deserve it and Steve too gave just as good as he got, annoying you on a daily basis, ruining every possible chance you had of a date when someone tried to ask you out, spilling ice cream on your uniform and just making a total nuisance of himself around you.

It’s only when his Dad arrived into the parlour one evening to collect him that you really felt sorry for Steve. His BMW had been in the garage and his Dad walked in, tossing him some clothes to change into before he left the mall, not wanting anyone to see his son “looking like an idiot”. You don’t know why seeing Steve being ridiculed and humiliated by his own Father mad you angry but it did. You could still remember the look on Steve’s face when it happened and a part of you wanted to defend him, to pull him into you and hug him but that would have been weird back then. So you decided to give him a break after that night, finally getting to know him after a longer than usual shift, both of you stuck cleaning up after a birthday party and you realised Robin was right. He had changed. He was kind and sweet and somehow he had six kids who absolutely adored him and the longer you were around him, you couldn’t help but start to adore him too.

“It’s okay to admit that you care about him, y’know?” Robin whispers, nudging your shoulder, shaking you from your thoughts of Steve. “Dingus is a good guy and it’s pretty obvious he cares a lot about you.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Robin.” You laugh dismissively, trying to avoid the conversation completely because maybe you weren’t fully ready to admit your feelings to yourself yet.

“Oh please! You know exactly what I’m talking about. You’re totally into each other.” She states but you shake your head defensively, hoping it was too dark for her to see the tints of pink on your cheeks.

“No, it’s not like that. I mean, Steve could barely stand to be around me a couple of weeks ago. There’s no way he has actual feelings for me.” You assert but it does little to dissuade Robin who’s had a front row seat to your constant bickering over the last couple of months and while it seemed like you both truly despised each other at the beginning, it became clear to her that you and Steve were hiding behind your real feelings and the last few days only made it all the more obvious.

“Come on, I’ve seen the way he looks at you, the way he gets totally jealous every time Jason Carver comes in to flirt with you. He tries to act like he doesn’t care but his face gives him away every time. Not to mention how happy he was when you fell asleep on his shoulder in that damn elevator, poor guy couldn’t stop gazing at you.” She chuckles as Erica walks towards you both.

“You’re talking about Harrington right? Dustin said he’s totally in love with you and since I’ve spent the last twenty four hours stuck with your insane asses, I’m inclined to agree with him.” The younger Sinclair smirks, folding her arms. You try your best to ignore them both, reverting your gaze back towards the direction of Steve who’s already looking right at you. Dustin is pointing your way, speaking passionately and although you can’t hear what he’s saying, you assume it’s about you because Steve quickly slaps his hand away before rolling his eyes at the younger boy.

“See?” Robin nudges you again. “He keeps looking over here. Just go talk to him, please? Put us all out of our misery.” She begs, giving you puppy dog eyes as Erica whistles at Dustin to call him over, giving him a small thumbs up as he grins widely and starts to make his way over.

“Why do I feel like I’ve just been set up?” You grit your teeth, glaring at your friends.

“Maybe because you have been.” Robin smiles sweetly, shoving you forward as you begin to walk towards Steve. Your stomach twists as you get closer to the boy, hoping you don’t look as anxious as you feel. If everyone else could tell you had feelings for him, wasn’t it likely he knew too?

“If you came over here to tell me I look like shit, you're too late, Henderson already beat you to it.” Steve jokes, looking at you through his one good eye, the other badly swollen as he holds an ice pack to his face, wincing a little from the cool contact.

“Relax Harrington, you’re still annoyingly pretty. I just wanted to make sure you were doing ok.” You say, taking a seat beside him on the edge of the ambulance as he scoots over for you. "Besides, it’s not like I can talk right now, I'm sure I don’t look much better.” You sigh as he scans the injuries on your face, hating himself for getting you caught up in all of this mess.

“Nah, don’t worry. You’re still beautiful .” He smirks, his bruised face still achingly gorgeous in the night sky as you both lock eyes, sitting in silence for a moment before you finally remember to breathe.

Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington had just called you beautiful. You— the girl he once claimed to hate. The girl that used to drive him utterly insane in High School. Shit, in the few short months you’ve worked in Scoops Ahoy with Steve, you’ve heard him use many terms when talking about other girls, ‘hot’ ‘cute’ ‘pretty’ but he’d never used the word beautiful. Did he really think you were beautiful?

“I think you’re still high, Steve.” You blush, placing a strand of hair behind your ear as he shakes his head.

“No. For the first time in a while, I think I’m seeing things pretty clearly actually.” He affirms, too confidently for a guy who looks like he’s just gone ten rounds with Muhammad Ali.

“I’m not sure how that’s possible when you can’t see out of one eye right now but okay.” You giggle and he laughs with you.

“Come on, you know what I mean.” He playfully bumps your shoulder to grab your focus. His caramel eyes moving to your lips before looking back at you again and suddenly there’s a familiar tension in the air between you that you’ve refused to acknowledge before.

“Do I?” You ask, your voice barely above a whisper as you take the ice pack from him, holding it to the side of his face soothingly.

“God I hope so.” He breathes out, lifting his hand to cover yours. You can sense that he’s nervous and you almost want to laugh at how insane this all seems. The thought of Steve Harrington being nervous because of you would have been comical a couple of months ago but here you are, wanting nothing more than for him to kiss you stupid.

“I’m really fucking sorry for getting you guys mixed up in all of this.” He mutters, a guilty look across his face as he lowers his head.

“Hey, no. None of this is your fault Steve. Nobody could have known what was going to happen.” You try to comfort him but he can’t help feel slightly responsible.

“No, I should have known the reason those Russian’s came to Hawkins. I should have known that thing was back. God I’m so stupid!” He spits with anger in his voice, throwing his head back.

“You’re not stupid Steve.” You say softly, gently placing your hand on his thigh.

“Come on honey, you can say it, s’not like I don’t already know.” He half laughs and you hate that he thinks of himself that way, that he thinks you think of him that way.

“I don’t think that Steve, I never thought that. An asshole? Yes. Selfish? Hell yes. But not stupid, never stupid and after actually getting to know you—the real you and not the person you pretended to be in High School, I can safely say I was wrong about who I thought you were.” You admit, finally finding the courage to reach for his hand and intertwining your fingers with his.

“Oh yeah? What changed your mind hmm?” He asks, grinning as he turns his body fully towards you, rubbing his thumb over the delicate skin of your knuckles.

“I’m not sure really, maybe seeing how good of a babysitter you are, how protective you are of all your kids. That might have had a little something to do with it.” You tease as he chuckles with you. “Only a little huh?”

“Well, it might also have something to do with you saving my life. Trying to sacrifice yourself so they’d let me go. That was really brave Steve.” You whisper, trying to stop yourself from getting choked up.

“And it was really stupid of you to refuse.” Steve replies, immediately wiping away the tear he can see trailing down your cheek.

“Hey, if we go down, then we go down together. That’s the Scoops Ahoy! policy remember?” You remind him as he shakes his head at you, cupping your face, caressing the apples of your cheeks. “I don’t know what I’d have done if something bad happened to you. Every time they touched you, every time they even looked at you— god I wanted to fucking kill them.”

“Careful Harrington, it almost sounds like you care about me.” You breathe out, hypnotised by his full pink lips as you realise they’re inching incredibly closer to yours.

“Shit honey, what gave it away?” He smirks at you, finally closing the space between you as his lips gently meet yours in a warm embrace. You can hear the wolf whistles from across the lot, both of you laughing into the kiss as your friends cheer you on and you can’t help feel like a kid playing spin the bottle for the first time.

You eventually break apart when the medic coughs awkwardly, mortified that he’s had to stumble across a make out session as you both try your best to hide your embarrassment, your cheeks flushing bright red.

“Alright Mr Harrington, from what I can see, it looks like you’ve got a bit of a concussion there. I know you mentioned your parents are currently out of town so I think it might be best if we keep you in overnight at the hospital tonight.” The man says as you watch Steve sigh heavily.

“I’m sure I’ll be ok by myself, I’m not really the biggest fan of hospitals sir.” He admits, swallowing hard and you can’t help but be mad at his parents for once again being absent when he needed them.

“I’m really not comfortable with you being alone tonight Mr Harrington, I’d rather you come—“

“He won’t be alone. He can come stay with me, I’ll look after him.” You interrupt, taking Steve’s hand in yours, squeezing it reassuringly. His head turns to you immediately, eyes glossy and mouth open in awe of your kindness, he feels like his heart is going to explode.

“Are, are you sure?” He mumbles, blushing as you kiss him on the cheek.

“Of course I’m sure, I owe you for saving my life. Maybe it’s time, you let someone save you.”

#steve harrington #steve stranger things #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #king steve #steve the hair harrington #steve harrington imagine #stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #joe keery

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waldau-archived · 6 months ago

Text

menace — boo seungkwan | 2,058 words | fluff

inspired by this video. and ofc boo seungkwan :)

gender neutral reader. warnings: none.

no one ever talks about the downsides of having a crush.

having a heart that beats erratically only when you see them. the way your hands turn unattractively clammy even if they’re within normal distance. you know, normal friend distance, because only one of you feels another way. voice cracks that spring up at the worst possible moments. the way you forget what you want to say when it’s your turn to speak.

maybe it’s fun sometimes, daydreaming about a world where you’re something else. something more. but that’s just what it is — a fantasy. the cons outweigh the pros.

case in point: boo seungkwan.

you don’t know how long you’ve been cuddling with your pillow, your back facing the man in question while you try to will yourself to sleep. it doesn’t work, just the way it hasn’t been working ever since you flopped onto your bed.

“you should be out with the others,” you murmur without looking at seungkwan, another variation of the same sentiment you’ve been trying to get him to understand for a while now.

seungkwan lets out a huff. “and you should stop telling me to go.”

you don’t need to turn to know he’s run his hand through his hair in frustration. you’re sure his hair is an adorable mess, but you don’t need any more fuel to add to the fire of feelings that’s been raging inside you all evening long.

when your friends suggested renting a beach house for the weekend, you didn’t realize they’d put you and seungkwan in the same room. you’re best friends, they’d said. of course you’re going to room together.

seungkwan isn’t half bad at being a roommate, but it’s a bit of an issue when you have a massive crush on him that you’re really trying to stop thinking about.

annoying seungkwan with his annoying smile and his annoying hand that rested on your thigh half the time you were playing monopoly. his annoying leg that touched yours when you were watching a movie because there wasn’t much space left on the sofa, but he had to have you next to him because he’s never been good with horror.

even when you’d offered to hold his hand from where you were sitting on the sofa, he refused till jeonghan moved to make space for him to sit next to you.

in a way, you’re glad you sat next to him. at least you didn’t have to pretend like you weren’t scared, not when you had vernon and wonwoo sitting in front of you, watching the screen unblinkingly.

it’s all been a bit…much. which is why you decided to skip going on a walk along the beach with the boys and head for a night in, citing a headache.

the only problem? boo seungkwan wanted to be the one to take care of you.

“do you want me to get you anything? water? medicine?” he asks, soft, and you feel bad for making him stay behind for something that isn’t even an issue for you.

“no.”

“should i sing something?”

“no.” the last thing you need right now is boo seungkwan serenading you while you’re wallowing in your feelings about him.

it’s neither of your faults that the moment you realized you were in sharp, blinding, no-taking-back love with him was when he clinched the match point in a badminton match against junhui four months ago.

four months ago. a badminton match.

your life hasn’t been easy since.

you’ve never minded seungkwan being touchy before — that’s just how he is. he brushes stray lint off your clothes if he spots it, fixes your hair if he thinks it’s out of place, and traces the back of your ear for a few seconds when you’re nervous about something.

you love it. you love being his best friend. but what you don’t love is the way you’ve been carefully rethinking every interaction you’ve been having with him since that fateful night four months ago.

boo seungkwan is sunshine incarnate. he loves and loves and loves. he loves everyone so much that you don’t know if the love he has for you is any different from the love he has for everyone else.

sometimes you wonder if he has even the slightest hint. he’s not clueless, but he’s not very good at acting on his impulses the way you are. for him, everything needs to be measured. set in stone. approved of beforehand. something you wonder if you could just kiss him and see what happened, before realizing that a moment of happiness is not, in fact, worth a lifetime without boo seungkwan.

which is why you let out a deep sigh and curl in on yourself.

“okay, that’s it,” seungkwan says, and you hear the sound of your laptop shutting and the springs of your bed creaking before he comes into your line of sight, kneeling down on the floor in front of you on his knees, head propped up on his arms that are folded near your face.

if he was a bit closer, you could’ve even kissed him.

you wonder who let boo seungkwan be this perfect. there’s nothing about him that you dislike.

“you’re not telling me what’s wrong, and i’m not leaving till you do. you should know that by now.”

you do know that. you’re very familiar with boo seungkwan and his incredibly stubborn self that just wants to help because he loves to. he loves people. and he just doesn’t love you. not the way you want him to.

“it’s your fault,” you mumble childishly, trying to turn to the other side so he’ll have to repeat the whole ordeal, but he just grabs your hand with an iron-strong grip. damn him and his long fingers.

his fingers, weirdly enough, were the first thing you actually noticed about him when you first met him. the way he drank jeonghan under the table with his long, elegant fingers wrapped around the beer glass, draining it like it was water.

this evening, too — his fingers drumming on your thigh, his fingers brushing against your hand, his fingers brushing your hair behind your ear so that he could whisper his plan to you.

“i knew it,” he says, head lifting from the bed. “it’s not just a headache. it’s probably not even a headache, is it?”

“shut up,” you mumble, more out of the fear that he’ll find out somehow than the mortification stemming from the fact that he’s caught on so easily.

“is it really my fault, though? you’re not even letting me make up for it.”

he should be out, you think. out with the rest of your friends and out of your treacherous heart. instead he’s sitting here with your heart in his hands and he’s not even aware of it.

“you can’t do anything about it,” you huff.

“try me.”

when it becomes clear that he’s seriously not letting go of your hand even after a few minutes of silence, you turn to look at the ceiling, eyes fixed on the little cracks above you.

“have you ever…wanted something you can’t have?”

“of course i have,” he says instantly.

“oh. did you get it?”

“no,” he says easily, letting go of your hand. “but it doesn’t mean i’ve stopped trying.”

now you’re curious. you let go of the pillow so you can see him better. “what is it?”

“i’m not telling you.”

“oh, come on!”

seungkwan leans forward to ruffle your hair. “not till you tell me what’s bothering you.”

you sigh. “i can’t.”

“why not?”

“because…”

“hmm?”

“because.”

“wow,” seungkwan says, with a small laugh. “i didn’t know you were this articulate.”

“i hate you,” you say with no heat, turning around and lying down again. maybe he’ll get bored in a while and leave you to your own devices.

no such luck. one moment you’re staring at the blank wall of your room, and the next thing you is that there’s a weight on the bed right behind you. seungkwan’s weight behind you, to be specific. he’s so warm all the time. one of his hands snakes around your waist gingerly, and you tense up immediately.

sure, you’re best friends, but you’ve never done this before. sleepovers are a common thing for the two of you, but cuddling? you’re not uncomfortable, exactly, but you just don’t know what to feel.

“can i ask you a question?” seungkwan asks, and his proximity makes goosebumps rise on your arms. embarrassing.

“sure?” you manage to squeak out, definitely not focusing on how much better his voice sounds so close. and how casual he’s being about all this.

“are you really going to let random strangers on the internet control your life?”

you’re so confused by the tangent he’s gone on that you have no choice but to turn around and face him, and— bad idea. bad idea. his lips look so damn kissable that you have to physically lift your eyes from them to meet his. and he’s smiling for some reason.

you don’t know how you’re going to sleep tonight, much less make it to the next day alive.

“do you want to kiss your guy best friend?”

you feel like he’s stolen all your words. you’re aware you’re just staring at him, blinking like a goldfish, unable to speak. seungkwan lifts a hand and hovers it above your cheek, seeking your permission. he catches the minute nod you give him and rests his palm against your cheek, hand warm against your cool skin.

“i don’t care what she said,” seungkwan continues. “do you want to?”

“how did you—” you manage to choke out.

“because i can see what posts you’ve liked, silly,” seungkwan giggles, thumb swiping against your cheek before he lets go. you instantly miss the heat of his hand. “you still haven’t answered my question, by the way.”

he doesn’t seem upset, the way you thought he might be at the discovery. “if i say…yes?”

“then,” seungkwan says, leaning down, and what comes next is something you’ve only ever dreamed of. his lips are soft against yours, letting you set the pace as his hands gently card through your hair. he’s always been gentle with you underneath the teasing exterior he has, and now is no different.

when he doesn’t pull away despite your fears, you decide to take the leap and thread your hands through his hair, pulling him closer to yourself. he comes to you willingly.

you don’t know what to do with your hands when seungkwan finally pulls away. he’s out of breath. you feel oddly proud, but there’s also an unsettling feeling in your stomach. what if—

“please tell me this isn’t a one-time thing,” seungkwan says, finally looking nervous for the first time all evening long. “because then i should’ve listened to her.”

“no,” you say, feeling yourself smile like an idiot. “no. neither of us should listen to her. i don’t want it to be a one-time thing, either.”

“good,” seungkwan sighs, moving closer so his head rests on your shoulder.

“but…how long have you known?”

“how long? hmm. only a month.”

horrible. he’s been watching you suffer all this while?

“hey, stop being shy on me now,” seungkwan says, turning to look up at you. “i’ve seen the way you look at me.”

you’re sure there’s steam pouring out of your ears. “i hate you.”

“no, you don’t,” seungkwan singsongs. “because i love you far too much for that.”

you look down at him. “you…” love me?

but that wasn’t ever a question, was it? he does. you’ve seen the way he looked at you before you realized your feelings for him, and the way he’s been looking at you after, and there’s been no difference.

he’s always loved you. maybe longer than you’ve loved him.

there’s a warm feeling spreading through your chest that makes you push seungkwan away and hide your head in his neck so he doesn’t see you. he lets out a little laugh and rests a hand on your back.

“do you want to go out and introduce everyone to your…boyfriend?” he asks, shy, and it’s a sight to behold because boo seungkwan’s always anything but shy.

“boyfriend?”

“does it sound okay?” he asks sheepishly.

he gets his answer in the form of a kiss.

taglist: @bookyeom @wootify @strnsvt @cloudycaramel @thepoopdokyeomtouched @minnieminshi @nonononranghaee @hrts4hanniehae @viewvuu

#lmk if there's any spelling errors pls <3 #seungkwan #boo seungkwan #seungkwan fluff #fluff #seventeen #seventeen fluff #svt #svt fluff #waldau writes

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midnight1nk · 1 month ago

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So, this week's episode...

[Spoilers below cut]

I'm absolutely terrified, it's not even funny. I can't even click it. But I have to... for the LOREEEEEEEEE... okay, let's-a go....

(The following is my live reaction:)

ay the TADC plug, of course

"Born to shit, Forced to wipe" - not smg3

wise words Three

also, the Ferris Wheel and rollercoaster thing is still there in the background (Ferris Wheel wedding, my beloved...)

I knew someone was going to bring up Meggy and her disappearance

LEGGY! MEGGY, WE'LL RESCUE YOU I PROMISE!!!

THANK YOU THREE for asking the right questions here

oh... not what I expected. at least the crew knows this is obviously Mr Puzzles

NAME DROP

OK, a LOT to digest here:

These are all the possible minigames that we might see in WOTFI. Well, at least all the attractions we could see...

a Mr Puzzles Chonk plush (in the bottom right)

a Tunnel of Love attraction... hmmmm.......

Huh, I didn't know this was by the coast of the Mushroom Kingdom. Or it could be an island/peninsula.

The what now, Leggy?

YEP I knew that once they found out, they would want to leave

...and of course, Mario wants to stay

Yeah, Luigi said it himself

but also, look at the Mr Puzzles cardboard cutout in the back, he's wearing Meggy's cowboy hat from Western Spaghetti

Alright, but before we go in, we gotta have a buddy system, guys

All these critiques are going to make Mr Puzzles lose himself even more than he already is

I think I saw someone posted about submitting a water gun game so congrats for getting in!

Leggy Plush!!

also spider-man plush... symbiote... venom... GOOP!4????

...Once Upon A Perfect SMG4?

[*points at Four and Mario*] The sillies

ok, but like, why is Three smiling like that while everyone else looks so disappointed?

They did the buddy system!

Bob: "Those dumbasses will see ANYTHING and get excited."

I feel seen and I don't like it.

I don't like this either. I already know this is a trap but like noooooo

Three just standing there like a dad watching over his kid

Someone else also submitted a mini-game involving a ducky fishing game

GOD DAYUM.... why did you have to pose like that, Three? You're not beating the allegations, huh.

Aw, Three really wanted to enjoy a carnival if Mr Puzzles wasn't involved (writers, write that down + carnival dates)

OK NOPE WE NEED TO GET OUT OF HERE NOW

🫵 🏳️‍🌈⁉️

oh c'mon now, it's just plainly obvious. Not that it should be surprising, everyone's part of the skittle squad (tm)

STRONG WOMEN we love to see it

...that can't be a real thing... can it?

same Luigi same

YES PLEASE CAN WE?

sorry dude, they really locked in

also what the hell is that building in the back?

Luigi (or rather the SMG4 fandom): "See? I can handle this! I'm not afraid anymore! Do you hear me? I'm not afraid-" [*horror jumpscare*] [*scream*]

NOT EVEN MELONY'S GOD POWERS COULD HELP US, WE'RE FUCKED

NOOOOOO NOT KAREN AND SAIKO

THREE WE NEED TO LEAVE NOW

NOOOOOOOO THREEEEE I THOUGHT HE WAS GOING TO BE THE LAST ONE TO MAKE IT OUT

[*sobbing*] he sent one last text to warn them :( he really does care

AND HE SENT IT TO FOUR [*head in hands*]

the contact names they have for each other.... (I'm not well)

WE GOTTA GO [*runs*] GET OUT GET OUT

Leggy... why did your face change like that?

WHAT WAS THAT CRYPTIC CAPTION?!

Mario, please don't sacrifice yourself... oh, thank god! They really are having me panicking for the smallest things

wait... OMG THEY SAW MY SUBMISSION! THEY SAW IT!

the mini-game challenge that I submitted:

Pop & Whirl: Everyone gets a bag of popcorn. The winner must keep all of their popped kernels in their bag, without dropping a single one... while being chased around the carnival by a collapsed Ferris Wheel (Professor Layton style)!

I DON'T CARE IF IT DOESN'T HAPPEN AGAIN IN WOTFI, I'LL TAKE IT. But if it does happen, I'll draw lawyer Meggy with a redesigned Ace Attorney-esque outfit (somehow)

please don't tell me the green pipe is also a trap...

...the exit door from TADC?

oh god, why does this remind me of the dark web?

and the eyes on the mushrooms... [*IGBP flashbacks*]

heh heh, funny mirrors... AH SHIT PUZZLES, DON'T JUMPSCARE ME LIKE THAT

actually, now that I think of it, Mr Puzzles hasn't revealed himself this whole time...

THE DIDNEY ENGINE ROOM?!

...holy shit

so was I right about us getting to see Mr Puzzles' "truest form" and the whole "Eye of Ra" thing?

are those his arms? and the circle things, it could be part of his cyborg texture but they also look like eyes.

the fog part is really interesting because they could've gone with any "spooky" color but they chose this. It's the creative vision, the one Didney had in this room.

This really reminds me of the goo from IGBP and Wren's wire simulation in Western Spaghetti, but also from this angle, a bit of Zero's "no legs" body design.

"His obsession becoming his identity" - Puzzles connected himself to the single star Didney had. You got it right, past Ink.

HUH?! YOU CAN'T END IT THERE

AND THEY GRAY-ED OUT OUTRO, NO MUSIC! IT'S ABOUT TO GO DOWN, GUYS

also congrats to Nikej1708241 for making it to the credits 🎉

.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.

That was a pretty solid episode ngl. Probably not as "plot twist-y"

(i know that's not a word) as the previous episode but my spaghetti gods, it delivered! Not Marty again, we may have to rethink this one.

Ok, I've made a list of all the attractions and mini-games there are in the carnival grounds in Puzzle Park:

Ferris Wheel

"Tender Tunnel" (Tunnel of Love attraction)

Merry-Go-Round carousel

Basketball arcade game

Hammer game

Bumper Cars

"House of Crazy" funhouse (also that fits Mr Puzzles somehow)

A spooky cart ride

Water gun game

Rocket ride

Arcade (just flat-out an arcade)

Clown Ball Game

(There's apparently a cafe???)

Ducky Pond fishing game

Pizza shop (....marty?)

It's probably not all of them, we would just have to wait and see, but if you submitted a mini-game that involves any of these, congrats, you likely got in!!!

I still very much enjoyed this episode and some of what I theorized could possibly come true. And some didn't, which is totally okay with me. I'll cherish the Ferris Wheel chase scene regardless :)

We still have to wait for a trailer or a special video in regards to WOTFI, which I will have to analyze and see what's to be expected. From the looks of it in this episode, it seems like it's up to SMG4 and Mario to rescue their friends one by one by completing the mini-games. The more people they rescue, the more help they can get to complete the games. And that includes saving Meggy at the end.

Now, personally, I don't want Mr Puzzles to die. Not yet. There is still a lot of potential that could go for him. A similar redemption arc just as Three went through. Puzzlevision 2. Goop!4. Marty. Anything could happen. Then again, he could die.

Now you might think he might not die because he has a plushie, but there's literally merch of Axol and Desti and they're dead. Puzzles isn't safe from this possibility.

Put in your final bets, my dear fellows, because nothing will ever be the same again...

#smg4 #smg4 spoilers #wotfi 2024 #smg4 wotfi #wotfi 2024 predictions #smg4 mr puzzles #ink reviews #smg34 #< (there were a sprinkle of moments with them ngl)

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sseastar · 1 year ago

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성훈 、PARK SUNGHOON !

— THE ONE WITH THINGS THAT BLUR THE LINE BETWEEN FRIENDSHIP AND MORE

info. sunghoon x reader. fluff. childhood bffs to lovers. warnings. playful physical touch. not proofread. listen to. tokyo by lyle kam

teasing each other.

i’ve never gotten the childhood friends to lovers energy from park sunghoon but i woke up this morning thinking about how he’d be the friend to always tease you or scold you or whine about something you did but then immediately comfort you to make sure he didn’t cross the line because he doesn’t want to hurt you (exhibit a: his dynamic with sunoo) and now i want to cry. he’d be the type of person to chase you around with a huge smile on his face, just so he can grab you from behind and pick you up so your legs and feet flail out in front of you while you’re screaming at him to put him down but everything just merges into a bunch of sweet laughs. one time, you were baking a cake together for jake’s birthday and you start chasing him with a spatula of icing, but he suddenly turns on you with the entire bowl. sunghoon never fails to giggle (giggle) whenever he thinks about the way your eyes widened in horror before you turned to run away from him. same deal as before - he managed to catch you and pretend to smear a bunch of icing on your face before swiping just a little (there was still the cake left to do) on your cheek. he can only laugh his sweet laugh as he sees you pout before letting you swipe some icing on his cheek as revenge. i just - please. one chance.

holding things for each other.

it’s not rare for you and sunghoon to find each other’s things in your possession. as the two of you hang out, it’s easy for one of you to forget things in each other’s room or backpack or car. if he’s not wearing his jacket, you’ll be the one holding or wearing it, and if you don’t have a free hand, he’ll be the one to hold your water bottle. you know how people always seem to lose hair ties or chapstick? it’s because sunghoon always picks them up for you when you forget them, and all you have to do is ask him for chapstick and he’ll give it to you. it’s come to the point that the two of you just ask each other for your own respective items because if you don’t have it, you know the other does. it’s not rare for someone to ask if they can borrow some of your hand sanitizer or hand cream and you’ll say it’s with sunghoon. if you happen to forget your tablet or laptop at his place, it’s already charged 100% when you come pick it up.

going skating together.

okay, am i over the fact that sunghoon used to skate? not at all. the idea that you’ve been sunghoon’s biggest fan since he started skating is so so sweet to me. you always went to as many tournaments you could to support him alongside his sister at the edge of the rink, and he always seemed to do better when you were there watching. he would let you hold the plushies he received after his performances (you once refused to give him back a penguin plushie because you said it remind you of him and he gave it to you instantly after you said it was a mini version of himself - it still sits front and center against your pillows on your bed). as thank you’s for always supporting him, he would of course go to any event that you had to support you as well, but would also offer to take you skating every week (if possible). his guard is always up to make sure you aren’t getting hurt and holds you by your arms (like he did for jay and niki) to make sure you don’t fall. his heart beats a little faster when he sees you smiling wide when you get a trick he taught you how to do, and he wonders if it’s because he needs to take a break. initially, when you were first learning how to skate, he would pretend to let go just to make you panic a little, and his eyes would crinkle as he laughed at your wobbling state before immediately returning back to you and letting you hold him. he ended up not wanting to let go as he taught you to the point that you had to beg him to let go so you could skate on your own.

subtle skinship.

i feel like a lot of other people can agree with me on this but sunghoon isn’t the clingiest member. sure, he has his moments but i feel like it’ll be very subtle. there’s a clip from the behind the scenes of enhypen and hi where the boys are playing pictionary and sitting cross-legged on the floor. mans literally had his knee on top of sunoo’s for no reason. he has so much space next to him but sunghoon has to rest his knee on sunoo’s thigh just to be in physical contact. he would be the same when it comes to you, somehow always making sure his body is touching yours in some way. a lot of times it’s like that, where you and sunghoon are sitting next to each other and even though there’s so much space, he’ll slightly shift his thigh or shoulder towards your own as if saying “i’m here. just let me know if you need anything.” it’s second nature to the both of you now that neither of you flinch if you suddenly realize your foot is resting on top of his when sitting next to each other or his pinky is just resting on top of your own.

remembering the smallest things about each other.

sunghoon, although he refuses to admit it, made an effort to remember all the small things about you. early on in your friendship, he realized how much you remembered his favorite snacks or his favorite character from the show you used to watch - even if he had only mentioned it once to you in passing. so, as he grew to care more and more for you, he made it a point to learn and remember the smallest things about you just so he could help make your life a little easier, or just to cheer you up. at some point, it become second nature for the two of you to just know little details about each other - like how you always seemed to run into the stair railing in front of your apartment, so sunghoon made it a point to either cover it or move you to the side away from it whenever you brought him to your place. or how you remembered how much he loved one of the body washes you had stocked and he borrowed, so you keep a stash of it for whenever he stays over. there’s so many of these little things that has your hearts melting for each other that you don’t know how you could’ve ever gotten throughout your friendship without falling for the other.

making dumb excuses for each other.

whenever the two of you find yourselves in trouble or needing an excuse for something, you and sunghoon always make the dumbest excuses. most of the time, it’s the two of you making them in order to spend time together, like when you had joined him, jake, jay, and heeseung at an amusement park. the five of you were fighting over who would be sitting alone every ride you lined up for, and you and sunghoon found yourselves defending each other so that you wouldn’t have to sit apart. “sunghoon said he’s allergic to jay’s cologne and has to sit next to me so he can hold my hand cause he’s scared,” was what you said, and sunghoon, though defeated, had to agree. “what yn said.” the three other boys couldn’t do anything but roll their eyes and continue to fight over who sat alone. you were only laughing at you and sunghoon’s antics when you felt a hand intertwine with yours. you only stiffened, turning to meet the eyes of your best friend. “might as well, right?” sunghoon said with a little smirk. “right,” was all you could let out.

⌕. author’s note ; been so long since i was planning to post this but never got the chance to get to it! i’ve been trying to finish in our own but i’m very stuck on the hockey aspect of it so if y’all know anything about hockey, please let me know 😭 hope you enjoy, and pls remember to give feedback! it’s really what helps me to keep going with writing as i’ve been losing motivation recently, and feedback is something that always helps me to pick back up!

⌕. taglist ; @soobin-chois @koishua @enhacolor @chrysbibi @acaiasahi

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wolfbeestudio · 3 months ago

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HORRORMEOW HEADCANONS

FOOD AGGRESSION

When Axe was first adopted, he had severe food aggression and would eat too fast

His owners would start training him first by just being near him while he eats. Just letting him know that no one is stealing his food. This was all on a VERY strict routine.

Over time, he would be okay with others being around, and start easing up on eating too aggressively. Once that behavior was eased, his owners got him specific bowls to help him eat slower and help with his digestion. Of course, he only gets the best home-made cat food~

Now he's a little purr machine who neither overeats or eats too fast, and is completely okay with eating around the other cats

He is also pretty impossible to not give a treat ♥

TOUCH

Horror never was too feisty with people touching him, but for a long time was the kind of cat that may just hang out in the same room with you

After a few months of living with his owners, he found his favorite, and let down his walls enough to learn the enjoyment of cuddles and napping together. The other owners can be a little jealous of his favorite, but melt when they see just how happy he is

He's also the best little space heater on a cold night. He's large, full of purrs, and very chill to hang out with his favorite for a long time

OTHER CATS

At the very beginning, he needed to be separated from the other cats during mealtimes. He would absolutely break out fighting if other cats were near his food.

Otherwise, he was very okay and accepting of the others when he first arrived. Other cats could never beat him before, being such a big boi and having survived so many fights. In time, he learned pretty quickly the joys of being a housecat with the guidance of the other kitties, especially Nightmare and Dust.

He's not keen on play fighting like Killer and Dust. He'll watch from the sidelines and stand up when they start getting too rough. He's much more happy to take sunny naps, hang with his favorite owner, and play with his mousey toys

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yurinaa-world · 10 months ago

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please, for your 800 followers event I would like to ask for Jamil, Leona, azul, Idia and malleus with the letters J,L, O and P please

✦Characters: Jamil, Leona, Azul, Idia, & Malleus

✦Alphabet: J, L, O, P

800 Follower Milestone Event; Under The Stars

𝒥𝒶𝓂𝒾𝓁 𝒱𝒾𝓅𝑒𝓇

✦Jealousy - Do they get jealous quickly? How do they deal with it?

He rarely gets jealous, and it’s rare. He trusts you a lot. But if he were ever to get jealous, it’s more like bottled up. He’s just squinting at you, and that guy is talking to you with too much comfort and no self-awareness. You can see the sour look becoming more evident throughout the day since your interaction with that guy.

✦Love Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

He’s never been a desperate man—well, not for love, that is, survival? Yes, but this! It’s normal to help you out with work or if you're injured because people were roughhousing, but a lot of the things he does for Kamil make helping you feel something different. The second Kamil found out, he went straight to planning the most embarrassing plan ever. He might skip the plan altogether.

When he saw you, his heart just skipped a beat and was instead about to slip out of it. Unlike before, when he’s all professional, he lets it slip out when you're alone. I'm watching your face contort from your happy smile into a blushing mess, and my mouth is agape at this revelation.

✦On Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it evident to others? How do they express their feelings?

He's an act-of-service type of guy; he gives you little gifts from his dorm, makes you food, or does anything else you need help with, even if it’s not school-related. It’s the honeymoon phase forever here.

Oh, not really; no one notices unless they were to look into it more than they should. Giving you extra things and help anytime you need it. People would confuse you for being very close friends. Until you get caught holding hands when you thought you were “alone,” you are being investigated by everyone. You were so annoyed about it that you didn't tell them, and that's why you were ditching them to hang out with your lover, boy!

✦PDA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss, etc, when others are watching?

Of course, he isn't telling anyone; he isn't a fan of bragging in front of other people; that's just not who he is, but Kamil's big mouth always runs its course (he's trying). Not having a fan PDA, like no way is he kissing you either, like simple pinky holding. It is fine when there are not a lot of people around.

𝐿𝑒𝑜𝓃𝒶 𝒦𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈𝒸𝒽𝑜𝓁𝒶𝓇

✦Jealousy - Do they get jealous quickly? How do they deal with it?

He doesn’t care at all. He stares daggers at that bimbo for a first-year who dares to think he has a chance with you. He must be living under a rock if he doesn’t know that you're with him. You see him from the corner of your eye; he’s starting to get more of a malicious look on his face as his sharp teeth begin to show, with the poor first starting to get scared for his life.

✦Love Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

He is so calm about it; he doesn’t even need to say any words you like him, and he surprisingly likes you back. He looks at you, “touching me up like that, starting to make you think you like me, Herbivore.” You freeze and feel embarrassed, so much so that you can’t say anything back. “I like you back.”

✦On Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it evident to others? How do they express their feelings?

It was pretty evident that he liked you back, like letting you get away or touching his tail or his ears. Just feeling in general and letting you be next to him while he falls asleep might as well be the confession itself—that he didn’t rip your face off for touching him. That one time, you accidentally stepped on his tail, and everyone looked at you in horror, but he didn't murder you. It's a miracle if you call it that, but you’ll have to pay him back in another way other than your life.

✦PDA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss, etc., when others are watching?

He brags about Little whenever Ruggie says anything about Leona being lovesick. He’s just jealous that no one would bat an eye at him. He doesn’t care about anything; if people are watching, who cares? Let them watch, and it's not like he’s got anything to lose. He’s kissing you in the end, so he’s winning something.

𝒜𝓏𝓊𝓁 𝒜𝓈𝒽𝑒𝓃𝑔𝓇𝑜𝓉𝓉𝑜

✦Jealousy - Do they get jealous quickly? How do they deal with it?

He’s never been jealous! While that’s what he’s feeling right, he’s never had to share with anyone! But notes, work, and answers all come at a price, but I am sharing them with you! It is something he would never do. Those students in his dorm are just begging for no mercy because they’re gawking at you with such a look in their eyes as if they could make you fall in love with them instead.

✦Love Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

He feels his face red whenever you get near, especially when he’s been burned out entirely with little to no patience to deal with anything else. Seeing your happy face, just come to him with water in your hand and a slow asking if he’s alright, blush corroding his face. “I love you so much.” Leave his mouth in a mumble. He must’ve not been thinking right or something. How could he say something like that?!

✦On Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious to others? How do they express their feelings?

It’s obvious to his two right-hand assistants. He shows you a bit too much favouritism compared to anyone else. The little things he gives you to anyone else would cost them working in the lounge for months.

✦PDA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss, etc., when others are watching?

He doesn’t like to brag, unlike his accomplishments, but Floyd’s around, and whenever he’s around, he can’t shut up, sticking out his tongue in disgust, watching you two touch hands by accident.

𝐼𝒹𝒾𝒶 𝒮𝒽𝓇𝑜𝓊𝒹

✦Jealousy - Do they get jealous quickly? How do they deal with it?

It's a silent type of jealousy, like the “planning murder at the back of my head” type. The more he thinks about it, the more it pisses him off completely. His hair turns slightly red while he smashes the buttons on his controller, while Ortho watches it unfold from behind him.

✦Love Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

He can't; he can't do it. Nope. Not happening. He’ll rather die than confess to you. Everyone says the worst you could say is no, but he can’t handle it. Even though Ortho says his feelings to be reciprocated are 99%, he still can’t do it by just going up to you, looking you in the eyes, and talking with his actual voice. He would rather hide in a hole and live there forever!!

He ended up confessing. He stutters in his voice while telling you he likes you. Who knows who is blushing the most since you both look like tomatoes?

✦On Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious to others? How do they express their feelings?

He wants nothing to do with other people; he would never go outside!! Never! The only thing people do is that you go to his dorm often and with what ortho says, so that is all they have to go off of.

✦PDA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss, etc., when others are watching?

He’s so shy about the most basic affection you could give him. Holding hands, or even if it’s holding pinkies, he can’t help but go a little red whenever you do that. He's just never felt affection the way you do.

𝑀𝒶𝓁𝓁𝑒𝓊𝓈 𝒟𝓇𝒶𝒸𝑜𝓃𝒾𝒶

✦Jealousy - Do they get jealous quickly? How do they deal with it?

It’s just a sick taste in his mouth. Of course, he trusts you. Why wouldn’t he? You’ve been so close together and loving, so what exactly is this? He doesn’t know how to deal with this feeling. His brain can’t comprehend any of this. So, won’t you help him navigate what he’s feeling?

✦Love Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

He’s so old-fashioned, like a love letter in such a fancy font, too!! To the point, you can only read one part. That which is “I love you immensely. You are first, and you will always be my first.” Yes, you hugged him when you saw him again.

✦On Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious to others? How do they express their feelings?

Nobody knows that you're together since no one can find this dude except everyone at Diasomnia (seven dismay finding out you're together was a lot). He’s an old man, and he’s old-fashioned, like reading those books with covers saying “how to make your significant other fall even more in love with you.”

✦PDA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss, etc., when others are watching?

Again, nobody knows where this guy is at half the time. He doesn’t like to brag, and There’s no one to brag to anyway.

#Yurinna's800followerevent #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #disney twisted wonderland #twst headcanons #twst wonderland #twisted wonderland #leona kingscholar x reader #leona x reader #twst jamil #jamil x reader #jamil viper x reader #idia x reader #idia shroud x reader #azul x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #malleus draconia x reader #malleus x reader

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woundedoves · 4 months ago

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Yan!Playboy(OC) x GN!Reader

this is like a… plot but im gonna be busy for a bit so i wanted to at least post something! you can send requests or questions about every yandere type i’ve done btw! id be hapy to hear your thoughts<3

warnings: possessiveness, toxic asshole alert, beating the shit out of someone (not the reader obvs dont worry), not proofread!

thinking about a hypocrite yandere!playboy. says you cant touch anyone cant have sex with anyone but him, but he is free to fool around however the hell he wants.

you would protest if he wasnt capable of absolutely demolishing your financial and social life, i mean you’re a virgin anyways but god, you really wanted to lose it in college.

yan!playboy who puts these restrictions for you! yes darling<3 we cant have those filthy fucks who’ve fucked the whole campus ever lay a hand on you, no no no that would ruin you. thats why he has never gone over flirting with you, he’s too afraid to taint that perfect image of you that he made up in his mind. that you’re this meek little thing that would never ever disobey what he wants as long as he got you whatever you wanted!

he invites you to a party, you tell him you’ve never been to one before. of course! you’re all so new to this so you’ll be his + 1 for the night, isnt that great?<3 until he gets a few shots down and starts acting like a horn dog like he always is to anyone that slightly looks like you or is the same gender as you, he’s all over them all while looking at you and telling you to keep watching because fuck, your expressions and your attention are so euphorically orgasmic that he can’t even imagine how that perfect fuckin body of yours would feel against his used up one.

once he gets drunk as absolute all hell and you finally get sick of his shit you just try to get out but the person you’ve been eyeing since the start of the semester comes up to you . one thing leads to another and you’re there , on one of the bedrooms of fuck knows whos villa, you’re making out and god you almost forgot how fucking good it felt to have another persons lips on yours; shivering as their hands reach your skin and carress you just right.

yan!playboy just a stumbling mess, murmuring your name and looking around for you until he opens his bedroom door to see you making out with that fuckin asshole on his bed. instantly sobering up, he yanks the person from their collar just as you gasp in horror as he proceeds to beat the shit of them. telling them to get the fuck out before he really shows them what money can hide and do, and they obviously do leave with a concerned look at you through their bruised eyes.

yan!playboy turns to look at you, he’s fucking furious, “what? i leave you for 5 fucking minutes and you go to suck off a loser’s face? are you that desperate?!” you get up, tears are bubbling up and threatening to spill as your voice wavers, “YOU are the one grinding on people while telling ME to watch! what the fuck do you expec-“ your words are cut short as he takes you by your nape and meets your lips with a really harsh kiss. making you groan in pain as he nips on your lower lip, he takes your face in his hands with force, making you look straight into his eyes

“you’re mine. you got that? you’re mine and only mine and if i see another fucker ever touch you i swear to god ill fucking kill them and lock you up and collar your pretty neck so you’ll finally be a good fucking pet. got it, darling?”

#its 1 am i need sleep ugh #nsft #yandere oc #yandere x gender neutral reader #yandere x male reader #yandere x reader #yandere playboy #yandere smut #yandere #yandere nsft #yandere fic #smut

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babyangelsky · 3 months ago

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My Favorite Expressions in Love Sea Ep. 9

Holy shit I don't think I have ever felt more relieved watching the penultimate episode of a Thai BL than I did this week. I was expecting doom, I was expecting gloom, and while both were absolutely present, we did not linger there.

This is just my opinion but to me that alone is proof of how much Mame has grown as a writer because for a second there I was fearing another Don't Say No situation.

BUT THIS AIN'T ABOUT THAT LET'S YAP ABOUT MICROEXPRESSIONS

I need to start with my baby because after the horrors last week, seeing her smile means everything to me. Gotta hold onto it as long as I can because we all know what's coming.

And speaking of smiles, this situation is TERRIBLE there are delinquents coming at my man with 2x4's but this feral smile from Mahasamut?

This one is purely for Meena's benefit, to comfort and reassure her but it is genuine, Fort's eyes are very sparkly. He switches gears very quickly when the getaway bike arrives for the thugs though so however chill he seems, he absolutely isn't. He just wants to keep the baby (and Vivi and her friend) calm.

It's very disconcerting to see Vivi this serious.

We're 2/2 on smiles for other people's benefit. My poor girly.

*stares at Viviana* You did this.

This look of pure murderous intent may be one of my favorite expressions Mut has had over this whole show, especially because it's paired with that clenched fist. And I'm going to give extra praise to Fort for it because he doesn't clench his fist until after Tongrak apologizes for what happened and he doesn't open his eyes until his hand is practically trembling from holding it so tightly.

This response doesn't come when Rak tries to blame himself for the beating; it happens when he apologizes for it. Mut isn't angry in the abstract and he isn't angry at Rak, he's angry for him.

I don't like this face, Khun Tongrak. I actually had a moment where I thought to myself, "why can't I read your face right now?" and of course it's deliberate on Peat's part. Even without knowing what we know from the preview, this face would have told us that Something was about to happen.

Or maybe that's just me, I don't know. I've been staring very hard at Peat's face for the past two months.

Watching Tongrak desperately try to steel his nerve after entering the snake pit that is his sperm donor's house is heartbreaking.

As much as I hate to subject you (and myself) to more of Jak's face, I'd like to point out that like last week, his face is in shadow while the face of the person he's speaking to, in this case Tongrak, is catching the light. Also worth noting that Rak's back is quite literally against the wall in this scene.

We see this play with light/shadow again when Rak has a flashback of him from his childhood. Jak has always been a vile, psychopathic snake and his true feelings and intentions have always been hidden behind shadow.

It's horrible to say because there's so much anguish behind it but this is such a beautiful expression. There's a split second where he tries to look angry but it just doesn't work.

I think there's a tiny part of Tongrak that truly believed that tearing up the contract would be what made Mahasamut leave and on the flip side of that, a part that was afraid that the contract was truly the only thing making Mut stay.

GODDAMN THIS IS THE SEXIEST THING MAHASAMUT HAS EVER SAID ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME

For people like Tongrak and for people who can relate to Tongrak in the sense that one or more of the parents we pulled in the great gacha of life are horrible and shitty, there comes a moment where you realize that they aren't actually these huge indestructible monsters. They're human.

And when you realize that and look at them, it's like you're seeing for the first time. There's a weird sort of pity and whatever the opposite of awe is that you feel that's hard to describe. It's a feeling of "...Is that really it? Is that all there is to you?"

That is what Peat is portraying so incredibly in this scene.

BLINDING LIGHT OF LOVE LET'S GOOOOOOO

WILD HORSES, YA'LL! WILD FUCKING HORSES!

Pouty Tongrak face, as a treat.

Mook and Mahasamut were talking about Tongrak and what Mut would do if he got rejected when all was said and done, but Mook's face when Mut says he would accept the rejection tells me she's also thinking about herself and Vivi.

I actually really wish she would've talked to Mut about it directly because god knows girly pop needs to talk to someone about Vivi. Or better yet, Vivi herself.

As for the preview next week, do not even sweat it babes because you know what?

THERE ARE COLORFUL PATTERNS ON TONGRAK'S BODY!

I LOVE GETTING EVERYTHING I WANT!

#rakmut #love sea #love sea the series #meta #conversations with leah

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